Courage
by Neocolai
Summary: Mere weeks after Carbon, the Ghost crew is stranded on Lothal with a leaking fuel tank. Darth Vader is waiting for them. (Final Arc of the Never Alone series.)
1. Snare

"Kanan, I may not be Force-sensitive," Hera said frankly, "But even I can tell this is a bad idea."

"We don't have a choice this time." Kanan braced his hand on the pilot seat, eyes closed and expression unsettled in that vague twist Hera associated with the dark side.

"Vader?" she guessed.

"Not on this side of Lothal," Kanan said at last. His face cleared and he exhaled deliberately, as though expelling the Sith lord's presence from his mind.

"We could try an asteroid," Hera muttered. "It's safer than here."

"We need fuel, Hera."

It seemed ironic that the fuel tank had sprung a leak halfway through orbit. There were still sanctuaries remaining on Lothal, but the Fulcrum urged them to find a new asylum. Too many contacts had vanished within the last few months. Eventually, however – as though the mother heart of Lothal cried out for her lost raven – they always returned.

"Why did the Fulcrum call for a supply run near this dump – _again?_ " Hera flung out one hand and glanced shiftily at Kanan. "And don't blame it on a warped transmission. Chopper fixed that months ago."

"I didn't say anything about a transmission."

"Good. Because one more false run and I'm going to deflect to the Empire."

"As if they'd have us," Kanan snarked. He counted off satirically, "The droid torments officers for fun, the Lasat reeks, the Mandalorian captures every embarrassing moment of the crew, and the kid is loopier than a bipedal droid with melted circuits."

"And you are….?" Hera drawled.

Kanan smugly knit his hands behind his head and leaned back. "I'm a Jedi. I don't _need_ an excuse."

"Oh? Then what does that make your captain?" Hera folded her arms, raising one eyebrow in challenge.

Blue-green eyes shifted. Good. He was thinking.

"You're too dangerous for them," Kanan said with a slinky grin. "I saw what happened to Lando after he ditched you on Asmorigan's ship."

"You should have seen Asmorigan." Hera snorted.

"That's why I admire you." Kanan's eyes were soft, and she knew it was the closest he would come to saying what they both thought.

"Yeah… I figure it goes the other way," Hera said, squeezing his hand.

From the doorway, Ezra roughly cleared his throat. "Um… Chopper says we're about to land soon. Why are we stopping on Lothal?"

Growling low, Kanan folded his arms. "Remind me why we had kids."

"You wanted him," Hera retorted.

"I said I would _train_ him. You invented the adoption business."

"Did I … interrupt something?" Ezra asked guardedly.

"If I say yes –"

"Not at all, Ezra," Hera said quickly. Oh, how she loved it when Kanan squirmed. "We're just picking up fuel on Lothal. We won't be there more than an hour."

"O…kay." Looking suspiciously between them, Ezra shuffled out of the room.

"He's starting to pick up," Hera hinted.

"He's sixteen," Kanan grated. "He's supposed to know about this."

"Maybe you should give him the talk…."

Ooh, those blue-green eyes could be vengeful.

"Or we could just pick up the fuel and be on our way," Hera countered, preparing the Ghost for descent.

"Fuel cells, Hera. One hour. … . … And I'm _not_ sulking."

"Don't clench your teeth, love."

* * *

The dark side wasn't prodding him this time. Ezra waited for the sense of abandonment; of distrust and fear and hatred; of cold numbing his limbs until he wanted to shiver in the corner and call for Kanan. But there was nothing.

 _What are you planning?_

He wanted to shout at Vader through the Force, harangue him for leaving him in suspense, but he couldn't risk the Ghost.

 _What does he want with me?_

They had left the Imperial Academy only a few weeks ago. Kanan's hand was still healing, and Hera tutted about how close he had come to losing an eye. Now they were returning to Lothal.

 _Why aren't you_ _ **there**_ _?_

Ezra shuddered and rubbed his arms. The cold from the battle with Vader lingered. Kanan wanted to believe it was a lie; that there was no dark side fostering in his padawan. Ezra had given up denying the truth.

One day he would have to make a choice.

Blue or red.

 _Who is my real father?_

* * *

"Tell the Star Destroyers to prepare for my arrival."

"Yes, Lord Vader," the lieutenant said briskly. "The Lothal weapons faculty has reported that the bioweapons are set to launch at your command."

"Excellent work, Lieutenant. The rebel ship has already been sighted above the planet. When the bioweapon is launched, your troops will be assigned to retrieve them. Do not hesitate to use any means to ascertain their location. We will squeeze Lothal until someone reveals the whereabouts of these traitors."

Grand Moffs and Inquisitors were renowned for their lengthy monologues. How fortunate that Darth Vader kept his business short. The lieutenant fought down a yawn and nodded.

"It will be done, Lord Vader." He turned to his lackey and snapped his fingers, biting down a grin when the private jolted to attention.

More assignments. Better pay. Countless underlings. It was a death sentence for those under Darth Vader's command. The lieutenant considered himself lucky to have lasted three months.

Still, it was fun to watch the new recruits shiver whenever the 'monster in the cape' stalked aboard.

And he had won five hundred credits in the betting pool for 'survival odds'.

He had another thousand coming if he lived through this next mission.

All the same, he was relieved to be _only_ a lieutenant.

* * *

Examining moisture farms. How extraordinary. The Tatooine farmers must have exquisite models compared to those found on Lothal. Perhaps a future study on the intricacies of mushrooms would serve to end the rebellion.

Weary with boredom, Kallus check-marked his list and nodded to the quivering farmer. "Your research serves the Empire well. You will be compensated for your efforts."

He was almost tempted to burn the farm just to make his lackey tremble. There was _snickering_ behind his back.

"Commander Kallus," the audacious private said, "Officer Maipo requires an immediate report on your observations of the moisture farm prototypes."

Oh, how easy it would be to demote that snipe to 'fresher services – preferably in the Lothal "primitive" farmlands.

"Noted, Private Dulcont," Kallus said evenly. "Inform the officer that he will receive his report by tomorrow evening."

"Officer Maipo says the issue is very urgent," the private said smugly.

"Then inform him urgently," Kallus said. He thrust his datapad at the private and strolled to his transport. One more day in the Lothal fields, and then he would return to the academy warehouses with snot-nosed brats and pompous lieutenants.

To think that weeks ago, the Jedi had been within his grasp.

"Sir, there has been a modification in the orders…." Private Dulcont held out Kallus' datapad uncertainly. Sneering at the underling, Kallus snatched it away.

"Nervous all of a sudden?" They must be orders from Darth Vader, if the cockroach was shuddering.

"Well, well….." _'All ground troops are to maintain their present location and position. Unregistered spacecraft must be reported immediately.'_ Unregistered spacecraft. Kallus' eyes shifted and he instinctively brushed a hand over the peppered burns on his face.

Sometimes fate favored those who resorted to _all_ possible measures.

There were no specifications that the rebels had to be captured alive.


	2. Unleashed

"Ah, moisture farms." Kanan tilted his head into the humid air, wrinkling his nose at the scent of sun-dried mushrooms and weed grass. "The Empire has no use for vaporators. We'll be safe here for a while."

"They didn't used to have these on Lothal," Ezra commented, surveying the spattered towers.

Kanan shrugged, pushing a fuel cell ahead of him. "Must have taken the idea from Ord Mantell. Come on; Sabine won't leave her room until the hatchways are closed properly."

"Really? Sabine – allergies?" Ezra let his fuel cell drift as he plucked a white flower and rolled it between his palms. "Are you sure she isn't procrastinating?"

"Zeb would feign illness," Kanan drawled. " _You_ would pretend you broke your leg. Sabine is more responsible."

Shaking his head, Ezra trotted to catch up. "Whoa, now – I have never faked a broken leg!"

"Ankle, then. Admit it, Ezra; admit you've played sick with Hera before."

"I – I had a cold! She sympathized with me!"

"She coddled you. And you let her! The last time I checked for a fever you bit my hand!"

Ezra grinned cheekily. "Hera's nicer than you are."

"No, she feeds you. I'm only your master, who puts up with your attitude, trains you, teaches you to focus, guides your future, rescues you from idiot bucketheads, diverts catastrophe when you antagonize Zeb –"

"Hey, he started it!"

"And what thanks do I get? He compliments _Hera_."

"You're jealous." Ezra folded his arms and tried to mimic Hera's smugness.

Kanan raised one eyebrow and walked on. "You look like a drunken nerf."

Ezra spluttered. "All right, so maybe I'm new to this whole _'Captain Hera'_ acting, but –"

"That's plain, ordinary Hera to you. I get to call her Captain." Smirking, Kanan snitched Ezra's fuel barrel, pushing both ahead of him.

"But she's – " Blue eyes narrowed. "What is going on with you two?"

"She's the captain and I'm the fearless leader," Kanan said breezily. "I thought you figured that out already."

"No, I mean –"

Abruptly Kanan halted and held out one hand, scanning the horizon. "Something's wrong."

The back of Ezra's neck prickled and he rubbed it agitatedly, wriggling his shoulders. In the distance, a cloud of starlings sprang into the air.

"The Force…." Kanan's face clouded, and suddenly Ezra felt it too. A low humming in the atmosphere, increasing in velocity and –

"Run!" Kanan barked, abandoning the fuel and shoving Ezra ahead of him. The Force _floomed_ and suddenly the sensation was audible; a deep rumble burgeoning from the east.

"What's happening?" Ezra implored, looking back at the forlorn fuel cells. _What use is the Ghost if we have no fuel?_

"It doesn't matter!" Kanan snapped. "Just _get inside!_ "

"Hera!" he shouted as they neared the ship. He waved frantically, signaling for her to lower the ramp.

Ezra glanced behind just as the first silver missile screamed into the atmosphere. "Kanan!"

The Jedi Master looked back and swore. Silver curdled into fire and smoke.

"Kanan!" Ezra repeated as tawny dust swelled from the rocket's source.

"Don't look back!" Kanan ordered. He beckoned to Chopper, pointing at the ramp as the air roared. " _Go! Go!"_

The cloud gushed over the land, sweeping up moisture farms and fleeing birds. Ten feet to the ramp. Five. Dust whooshed behind them, gritty particles scouring Ezra's cheek.

"Close it!" Kanan shouted to Zeb, tossing Ezra the last three feet. He leapt up behind, covering his head as the sandstorm breached the hull. A sweet, decaying scent filled the air.

The door closed.

Gasping, Ezra pressed his hands against his knees. A dull ache pressed into his skull and he shook his head to clear it. "Kanan, what was….?"

Something clicked off in his mind.

Ezra spread his hands, sweaty fingers trembling. He felt… afraid. ' _There is nothing to fear,'_ Kanan had told him often. ' _There is only….'_

Kanan's eyes were wide and desperate, as though something precious had been taken away.

And then Ezra knew what was wrong.

There was no Force on the Ghost.

* * *

"Lord Vader, the bioweapons have been released." The lieutenant sighed inaudibly and brushed a finger across his sweaty brow. "Our officers are in position to collect all citizens who are affected."

"Very good, Lieutenant," Darth Vader said. "Tell the Star Destroyers to begin sweeping Lothal. I want the Jedi retrieved _alive_."

"Yes, Lord Vader. What of the residents; those who are not yet Jedi?"

"Anyone subject to the weapon's effects is to be impounded," Darth Vader ordered.

"It will be done," the lieutenant said, clicking his heels in a sharp salute. Darth Vader turned away, and the lieutenant slowly exhaled.

 _Why couldn't they have left Commander Kallus in charge?_

* * *

Thank you to CloudyRaven, Midnight Luna, , nuyen236, Guest, heartbreakerninja, Rebels-lover, BuruPlays2, and Ichichi05 for leaving feedback on the first chapter!


	3. Drifting

_*Kerchoo-choo!* *Gah – choo!*_

"Aw, you've got to be kidding me!" Zeb growled. "We're not anywhere near the frudal farms!"

"Th'not - _*kerchoo* -_ my - _*choo*_ \- fault, Theb!"

"Listen to her. It's pathetic! Not even the stim-shots will calm her down!"

"I hade dis!" Sabine howled.

"There is nothing I can do!" Hera said exasperatedly. "I'm down three crewmembers and I don't even know what kind of weapon we're dealing with."

"Whatever it is, it filtered through the air hatches," Zeb said as he experimentally sniffed a vent. "Some kind of gas, I'll wager."

"Th'making my fathe wun!" Sabine complained, hacking into a napkin wipe. Her eyes were puffy and streaming. Flushed cheeks and a swollen nose gave the illusion of fever, but Zeb knew better.

"That tanker was frudal-spiked," he said darkly.

"Yeah, I figured that," Hera snapped. "Ezra says he's cold – it's half-scalding in his room. _Kanan_ walked into a wall."

"Kanan?" Zeb said incredulously.

"He can't concentrate," Hera said. She rubbed her left arm, looking back towards Kanan's room. "I keep having to repeat myself. It's like he's stranded in an asteroid belt and lost his com."

"Force-inhibitors," Zeb grumbled. "It'll evaporate out as soon as we filter the air vents."

"This isn't like the Raydonia mission." Hera offered Sabine a new box of napkin wipes and nudged the crumpled ones into the incinerator. "I don't know what's happening."

"As soon as the dust is settled enough that I can see, Chopper and I will retrieve the fuel canisters," Zeb said. "There's something wrong with this planet."

"Cloth dah wamp on yo'way oud," Sabine begged.

"Yeah, yeah. Just drink the hot pepper tea already."

"We're out of it," Hera said agitatedly. Zeb clapped his hands over his eyes. Sabine melted.

* * *

 _It was there. It was within his grasp. He just had to –_

Gone.

Kanan snatched out as though he could grasp the fleeing wisps of the Force. The vapor teased and dissipated, and the Ghost was a hollow, cold prison once more. Rubbing his head, Kanan sat heavily against the wall.

 _It's there – it has to be!_

Even as Vader's prisoner, he had known the Force was near. It had wriggled past Agent Kallus' drugs, nudged him even while he was tortured with visions of Ezra's death.

Now the air itself seemed barren.

He hadn't felt this isolated since…

"Raydonia," Kanan whispered. He dug his fingers into his temples, raking at the Forceless void. The frudal flowers. The confusion. The emptiness. It was all the same.

Only this time, there was no ebb. The Force was gone.

 _No – not gone. Pent. Whatever chemical was in the missile is affecting everyone on the ship. The Force is still here._

Nullified. Abolished. Quashed.

 _It's me, it's me – the Force is alive!_

Conquered.

There was no Force on the Ghost. Kanan knew if he stepped outside, he would trip down the ramp. There was _nothing_ on Lothal.

 _That's impossible! They can't – they can't destroy the Force. The Force controls life. The Force – the Force is in all of us._

Fervently Kanan clung to Billapa's lessons. _There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is …. There is…._

"Kanan?"

Hera tugged his hands away, and Kanan realized he was tearing his nails over his scalp. Quickly he turned, forcing the torment from his expression. His hands were shaking.

"Kanan, tell me what's wrong." Hera gripped his hands again, and her arms quivered with his tremors. "Kanan!"

"It's – not – not there," Kanan whispered. Even as a padawan, they had never trained him for _this_. "The Force…."

"Zeb thinks it was frudal flowers," Hera said calmly. She rubbed Kanan's fingers, but her touch brought no calm. "It will pass, Kanan."

"No." No, it wouldn't. Not for Lothal. Not for any of them. "It's gone."

"Chopper and Zeb are retrieving the fuel," Hera said. Her serenity was comforting even as the void consumed his mind. "Within a few hours we'll be off planet. The effects _will_ fade."

Yes. Fade. The Force could still be found.

"E-Ezra?" Kanan's teeth chattered and he clamped his jaw. Hera's hand drifted over his cheek. He clasped her wrist, desperate to hold onto _something_ and know it was real.

"Ezra is fine," Hera soothed. "I don't think it affected him as deeply. We've fought this before, Kanan. It's going to be okay."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Kanan plunged into the emptiness one last time. Nothing.

"I'm fine," he lied, loosening his grip. "It was just a moment." Even without the Force, he could sense the tremor in Hera's voice. His knees quivered and he wanted to curl against the wall and scream. He forced himself to stand. The Ghost needed a leader.

"Where is Ezra?".

"In the engine room," Hera said. _You're faking it,_ her eyes accused. Clammy, chilled fingers twisted around Kanan's. "He said it's warmer there."

Then the kid was just as ill, even if he didn't realize it. Kanan patted Hera's hand and slipped free, hoisting himself up the ladder. He slogged past Sabine's room, where her garbled sneezes testified the pollenated air. The missile must have created a shock wave of frudal components. Kanan wondered how many other beings had been affected.

He nearly abandoned his quest at the top of the engine room ladder. It seemed so futile… so unnecessary…. _Just sleep for a while… everything will be over by then….._

Sighing, Kanan brushed off the drug's effects and slid onto the first rung. Commonplace activity was now a monstrosity, and the thought of leading a crew against the Empire… what was he thinking?

 _One step at a time, Jarrus. Get it together!_

Sometimes Caleb Dume poked his head out and begged for a few minute to play padawan. He wanted someone else to act as supporter and leader and master and planner and activist. He wanted to be assured that someone else could take charge for the day.

Kanan Jarrus had no time for weakness.

But as the frudal effects grew stronger, so did Caleb Dume.

 _Five minutes?_ Caleb whispered. He could rest his mind; give in and wait for the Force to find him; leave Hera to run the crew.

 _One step at a time, Jarrus._

Feet dragging, Kanan trudged to the swaddled bundle that was his padawan. Ezra was hunched in every blanket except Zeb's, listless eyes settled on the far wall. Kanan crouched and waved a hand in his face.

"Ezra. Hey." Words were meaningless. If Ezra had not been sitting before him, Kanan wouldn't have known his apprentice was on the Ghost. Hesitantly he reached out clamped his hand on Ezra's shoulder. "Ezra."

The kid jumped, scared blue eyes latching onto Kanan's face. "It's real? It's not – not a dream. I'm not – Kanan, what's happening?"

"You're feeling the effects of Force deprivation," Kanan said wearily. "I need you to go upstairs; stay with Hera." The last thing the kid needed was to be alone.

"You – you'll come, right?" Ezra jabbered. "I – I couldn't feel you. I thought it was the Empire. I'm not – I don't understand what's happening!"

"Ezra, I'll be right there with you," Kanan said with deliberate calm. "You need to stop panicking."

"I can't feel it!" Ezra emphasized. "Kanan, I can't sense the Force! You're not there. It's like I'm nothing! I'm alone!"

"Ezra!" Kanan gripped his shoulders and Ezra recoiled. Dismayed, Kanan stepped away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted." His fear. It yawned within him and the Force no longer controlled it. Tentatively Kanan reached out, cringing when his padawan did.

"You're never angry with me," Ezra whined. He shrank into his blankets. A kid off the streets. An orphan used to upraised hands and sharp words. A child accustomed to betrayal.

Kana was reminded too often how young his padawan was.

 _Caleb Dume was younger._

And Kanan understood how Ezra yearned for someone who was stronger; someone who would take the lead. He wanted to be a child again.

 _Sorry, Kid,_ Kanan sympathized. _The Empire won't hold back for children._

Sooner or later, both Ezra and Caleb would have to forget their dreams.

* * *

It was a separate cold from the dark side. The dark side was ice and satisfaction. This felt like he had plunged into the stars; no light, no air, no Force. Funny… he hadn't known how much he depended on the Force – how Kanan _breathed_ it – until the loss flipped his insides and he wanted to curl up against Hera and wait for the loneliness to fade.

He would _never_ cuddle, of course. He wasn't a kid who needed a stuffed Loth-wolf.

Sometimes Ezra wished he was. Everything had been simple, before he turned seven.

"Can I get you anything?" Hera coaxed, pressing her hand against Ezra's brow. Chopper scooted past her and rattled a tray of hot chocolate. Ezra smiled tentatively, wishing it would fill the ache.

"I'm fine…. Really." He looked over subtly and whispered, 'But Kanan isn't."

The older Jedi thought he was hiding it, hand clenched against the wall and brow furrowed in concentration, He had been staring at the holochess table since Hera switched off the intermission fifteen minutes ago. His eyes were vacant.

Ezra had lost his way. Kanan was floundering. No light, no backup, no hope. He couldn't retaliate.

"This isn't like the Raydonia mission," Ezra rasped, wincing as Chopper futilely bumped into Kanan's leg. "I couldn't touch the Force then, but I knew it was there." How did one epitomize abandonment?

"We need to help Kanan," Ezra whispered.

"We'll find a cure for both of you," Hera corrected. She glanced over her shoulder, lekku flicking, and shouted, "How long until the engines are fueled, Zeb?"

"Soon as I depollenate these karabasted pipes!" Zeb growled from below. "Tell the droid to lend a rusted claw!"

"Chop, go help," Hera ordered. She snagged the hot chocolates and pressed one into Ezra's hand. "Hold on, Ez. A few more hours and we'll be en route to the Fulcrum. Ahsoka will know what to do."

"I'm o-okay," Ezra stuttered. "Really."

Hera nodded. "I'll just be checking on Sabi –"

"Don't go!" Ezra gasped, catching her sleeve. Hera stood dumfounded, and Ezra flushed. 'I mean…."

"I'll be right back," Hera murmured, combing her fingers through his hair. "Besides, Kanan is here, and I need you to look after him."

"Kay," Ezra said thickly. He could do that. Kanan needed help, too. He needed someone real. "I won't let him get lost."

Hera chewed her lower lip, and Ezra wondered if he sounded more pathetic than he thought. Sighing, he pillowed his chin on his arms. Hera squeezed the back of his scalp reassuringly and slipped away, pausing at the door to coax Kanan's fingers around the mug. He stared at the hot chocolate impassively.

"Kanan, take a few sips," Hera urged. "There's extra sugar."

Dubiously Kanan swished the foaming mixture, too muddled to understand its purpose. Curious now, Ezra slurped his own cocoa. He clutched his throat and gagged.

Once again Hera had mislabeled the sweetest mug.

* * *

"Commander, we were ordered not to leave our outpost," the unnerved private said.

"Tend to your duties, Private," Kallus snapped. He tapped the scanner, assuring himself it was accurate. Less than a mile outside of the moisture farm complex. The rebels were here.

Giddiness swarmed Kallus' thoughts and he meticulously set his blaster to 'stun'. He wanted to see the fear in Jarrus' eyes before he destroyed his crew.

"You. Come," Kallus barked to the stormtrooper platoon. The private could mope on his transport amidst Loth-cats and vaporizers. Kallus had a rebel cell to eliminate.

No mistakes.

* * *

 **Translations** for Sabine's "Allergy-Lingo":

"Th'not - _*kerchoo* -_ my - _*choo*_ \- fault, Theb!" (It's not my fault, Zeb!)

"I hade dis!" (I hate this!)

"Th'making my fathe wun!" (This is making my face run!)

"Cloth dah wamp on yo'way oud." (Close the ramp on your way out.)

 **Thank you** to Gracie, Midnight Luna, Guest, Superherotiger, Rebels-lover, AzulaBlue92, Janellexleo4eva, heartbreakerninja, nuyen236, , and Ichichi05 for leaving feedback on the last chapter, as well as those who reviewed previous chapters after the acknowledgements!


	4. Cataclysm

I rush-posted the last chapter since I was leaving on a family outing. **It now has "reviewer acknowledgments" and "Sabine's allergy-lingo" included in the author's note.**

 **Thank you** to BuruPlays2, Midnight Luna, Superherotiger, Rebels-lover, AzulaBlue92, heartbreakerninja, , and Ichichi05 for leaving feedback on the last chapter, as well as those who reviewed previous chapters after the acknowledgements!

* * *

Hera worried about her cubs. Chopper peeked around the corner, watching the Twi'lek hustle to and fro, searching for remedies for Sabine and comforting Ezra. Brief glances were always reserved for her Jedi.

Kanan was … fading. He tweaked the wall circuits, adjusting wires that were only zapping the lights on the lower deck. Any minute he would rig the emergency power couplings. Blathering irritably, Chopper squealed forward and batted Kanan's hands away.

 _Back! Far back! Disastrous!_

"I know what I'm doing, Chopper." The ire in his voice was feeble. Sighing, Kanan rubbed his forehead. "I've got this."

 _You're an idiot! Bed. Now!_ Chopper whirled to smack the Jedi's head, and Kanan lethargically shoved him away.

"Go pester Hera."

 _Stupid Jedi._ Grumbling, Chopper slammed the wall panel shut and shuffled in front of it. _Tin bipedals are more sensible than you._

"And they talk less," Kanan snapped. "Chopper, move out of the way!"

"Chopper?" The petulant cub stood in the door, blankets wound tightly around his head. Chopper sighed.

"Hera said you were supposed to help me find the stim-shots," Ezra said coaxingly. "Sabine hid them."

Stupid Jedi and Mandalorians and Lasats besides. Waving his claws, Chopper shoved past Ezra and reeled to Sabine's room. Ezra shuffled behind.

" _Chop_ , why're you here?" Sabine moaned, flinging a crumpled napkin-wipe at his dome. Chattering in disgust, Chopper tossed it back.

 _Stim-shots. Now!_

"Und'r th'bed," Sabine mumbled, turning over and flopping a pillow over her head. "D'n let Ethra ged'em."

 _Stupid padawans._ Waving Ezra back, Chopper rummaged around until he found the carton of stim-shots. He breezed over memory circuits filled with one Jedi and one Captain, and imagined quietly disposing of a Loth-runt, a Zegplant, and an armored germ-processor.

Shoving Ezra out of the room, Chopper streaked down the hall. His Jedi was sick and he was the only intelligent being on the Ghost. The padawan should have stayed in his room.

"Chopper, he doesn't want to be bothered right now," Ezra said dully. "Just leave him alone."

Stupid padawan. Next chance, Chopper would clonk him over the head with his own lightsaber.

For now he would fix Kanan.

Nabbing the medkit with his other claw, Chopper wheeled into the hall where the Jedi was methodically unhinging the Ghost's wires.

 _What? Stop!_ Spluttering in disgust, Chopper slapped the medkit over Kanan's head. _Bad Jedi!_

"Ow! What are you doing? Chopper!"

 _Stop!_ Chopper waved the stim-shots and the medkit in Kanan's face. _Fix!_ Shaking his dome, he spilled the contents before Kanan. The Jedi sighed.

"Stim-shots won't help this time, Chop. Hera already tried." He returned to the wall panel, trapped in his world of engineering.

Chopper batted his own dome. Something had to be done.

Clanging at the Ghost's outer wall disturbed his concentration. Pausing, Kanan pulled his hand away from the controls and listened.

"Chopper, do you hear something?"

Fire plunged through the opposite wall.

* * *

The haze was easier to bear, if still disarming. Kanan could think for once. He knew who he was; his purpose; why there was reason to fight.

It didn't lessen the hollowness, but he could survive.

If Chopper would stop barraging him with stim-shots, that is. Sighing, Kanan finished connecting the circuits to the helm. "Stim-shots won't help this time, Chop. Hera already tried."

Sleep was not a remedy. Medications only worsened his dilapidated mind. Leaving the planet was their only hope.

Clanging outside of the ship warned Kanan where the Force could not. Laying his wrench aside, he inclined his head to the sound. "Chopper, do you hear something?"

Hera cried out seconds before the right wing exploded. The floor vanished and Chopper squealed as the Ghost recoiled onto its side, catapulting Jedi and droid against the wall. Ash and shrapnel pelted them from the shredded door.

"Hera!" Kanan shouted, coughing as the floor tilted once more. Momentum shot him towards the gap and he hollered as Chopper's zipline flicked around his left leg, yanking him to a halt just shy of the opening.

"I'm okay!" Hera's voice was muffled behind the sealed cockpit door. "Kanan, what just happened? Where are you?"

"Here – " _*Cough*_ "Get out – "

"Shields are disabled!" a tinned voice barked outside. Stormtrooper boots tramped to the entrance. Gagging, Kanan slid out his lightsaber and slit the wire around his leg. A dazed Chopper whirled his head and then screeched forward, prattling at Kanan disconcertingly.

"Get Sabine out of here!" Kanan ordered, rising unsteadily. "Find out if anyone is hurt. Now, Chopper!"

The droid spiraled away, and Kanan shifted his stance as the first stormtroopers filtered through the smoke. Stun bolts shrieked towards him in blue streaks. Instinctively Kanan screamed for the force to guide him.

Dizziness.

He was abandoned.

The first shots Kanan deflected on skill alone. A second volley grazed his boot and shoulder, electric vibes pulsing through his armor. The third shot punched his shoulder. Chest. Leg. Spasming uncontrollably, Kanan watched the ceiling bleed into the floor and tried not to imagine how pathetic he must look. Twitching, drooling, forcing his eyelids open….

Grey boots strolled before him and leather gloves squeaked. Raising his eyes, Kanan garbled an insult. Kallus snorted.

"Once again we meet on destructive grounds, and that is your only retort?" He nodded to his troops. "Retrieve the others."

"Kal….!" Kanan spat and wrangled his arms beneath him, struggling to rise. A boot slammed between his shoulders and he grunted as his face was ground into the floor.

"So indecorous," Kallus scoffed. "I had expected more of a fight. It appears that even the masters are crippled without the force."

"Y'…. can't…."

Alarmed screeches clenched Kanan's chest and he shouted as Sabine was hauled between two stormtroopers, blurry eyes furious as she thrashed with a paint can. Kallus' eyebrows flew up as he examined the Mandalorian.

"It appears the biopweapon has affected her more than most. Another Jedi you've been hiding, Jarrus?"

"Leave her!" Kanan cried out.

"Search for the others," Kallus ordered. "If you find the Lasat, I want him alive."

"Hera!" Kanan exclaimed as her shout reverberated from the cockpit. The groan of twisted metal quickly interchanged with blaster shots. A muffled yelp and the slithering of a body….

"Her… _Hera!"_ Kanan shoved the trooper's leg away and dragged himself to the corridor, reaching out as his captain was lugged between two more officers. Kallus smiled spitefully and ground his boot down on Kanan's outstretched wrist.

"She's perfectly safe, Jedi," he said, ignoring the man's garbled yells. "Our inquisitors will question her thoroughly. You, on the other hand….." He nodded to the troopers and kicked the back of Kanan's head.

The walls jolted as blasters clacked into position. Looking to the side, Kanan swallowed. Stretched out. Helpless. This wasn't a capture. He was about to be executed, blasted from all sides like Master Billapa.

Like a Jedi.

The Empire didn't need clones to create a sense of irony.

Gritting his teeth, Kanan slid out his hand one last time, shouting into the Forceless void. He could hear Sabine's screams, and Zeb's howls from below. _Did they find Ezra?_

The Force would not answer.

Resigned, Kanan closed his eyes.

* * *

 **Well, here's the big admission:** I haven't written anything for Rebels in weeks. All of these chapters for Courage were pre-written. I finally eeked out a chapter 19, and I know how the plot ends, but there are maybe three or more chapters that I have no inspiration for. At all. That's usually a sign that I'm moving past a category and I need to finish my stories ASAP.

So here's the dealio: I need to re-inspire myself for Star Wars Rebels, and I need help with two important things:

1) What makes the Never Alone series interesting, and why does the reader want it continued?

2) What makes Star Wars Rebels interesting (favorite scenes, characters, plot, etc.) and what are the best parts (or fan-made youtubes - creator name and movie title, no internet links!) to watch and better inspire myself?

Hope this works! xD


	5. Trash Can

**Special thanks** to AzulaBlue92, heartbreakerninja, sibuna-daughter-of-artemis, Rebels-lover, Ichichi05, Midnight Luna, , animesbff13, GrackleDragon, Janellexleo4eva, starwarsrebels, and Guest for giving feedback on the _Never Alone_ series and/or suggesting Star Wars Rebels themes. :) I am working on Chapter 22 and trying to get that inspiration back!

* * *

Kanan told him to protect the sick crewmember, but Chopper knew why the stormtroopers were here.

Jedi were more valuable than rebels with paint cans.

He bustled into Ezra instead, prodding him towards the rear of the Ghost.

"Wait – Chop – Chopper, what are you doing?" Ezra exclaimed, twisting his lightsaber free. "Kanan needs me!"

 _Back! Danger! Hunters!_

"Chopper, get out of the way!"

Stupid padawan. He nearly cross-eyed with Kanan's sickness, and he was blundering around with a dangerous weapon. Bleeping threateningly, Chopper swung the open medkit at Ezra's legs.

"Chopper, stop it!" Blaster fire careened down the hall, and Ezra's eyes dilated. "Kanan!"

 _No! Imperialists want the cub to coerce the Jedi! Ezra should be hiding!_

Clumsily Ezra leapt over Chopper's dome, lightsaber already glowing. Spinning wildly, Chopper snatched up a sedation shot and ripped away the casing. He zipped around Ezra's feet and whapped his leg, sinking the needle deep.

"Chop ….!" Already Ezra's voice slogged and he stumbled, striving to hold onto his lightsaber. "What're you…. Kanan….."

 _Stupid, stupid padawan!_ Worry rattled Chopper's dome as the blaster fire ceased and more boots stomped at the entrance. Wheeling in panic, he shoved Ezra down the hall and crammed him into the 'fresher.

Shouts of panic. Screams from Sabine's room. Clattering as she tried to reach a blaster in time. Fearful squibbles overran Chopper's circuits. His crew was endangered!

Maybe this was why humanoids cried. He could only save one.

Whipping into the 'fresher, Chopper slammed the door. The Jedi cub was shoved into the darkest, grungiest corner under the sink. Thank the Jedi's Force he was so tiny; Sabine would never have fit.

Rumbling in front, Chopper hunkered down and deactivated his outer circuits. The Zegplant always mocked that he looked like a disposal unit. It was time to act like one.

* * *

Triumph. Satisfaction. Revenge. It was everything Kallus had envisioned. His enemy was crumpled before him, the pistols of fifteen blasters leveled at his back. This was the way Jedi were meant to end.

It was justice.

It was perfect.

"Commander Kallus."

It was pointless.

Growling under his breath, Kallus turned from the Jedi and saluted. "Lord Vader."

"You have done well to capture the rebel spies. The Emperor commends you." Give his sarcasm, Darth Vader did not. "Your task is finished. Leave the prisoners to me."

"Lord Vader, are you sure you don't want the Jedi disposed of?" Kallus hinted. "His efforts against the Empire – "

"Have failed," Darth Vader said dismissively. "The rebellion has ended. The insurgents will be processed and the uprising will be crushed. Congratulations, Commander. You have earned your position."

Kallus gritted his teeth. "It is my honor to serve the Emperor." He looked down at Kanan, who was listening with taut jaw, clenched fists. "What of the Jedi?"

"The Emperor has no need for another apprentice," Darth Vader said, nudging Kanan with his boot. "Your interrogations have proved futile. Remove him from the planet."

"Wouldn't you rather I finish him now," Kallus suggested, tapping his blaster expectantly.

"The bond between master and padawan is strong. I will not have him contacting his apprentice."

"If the Jedi is dead, there won't be any communication," Kallus said, unable to keep a snide lilt from his tone.

"Do not underestimate the power of the Force." Darth Vader waved one finger in Kallus' face in contempt. "I want him incapacitated. There will be no interference."

"Sir!" One of the stormtroopers saluted at the doorway as the Lasat was dragged from the corridor. Kanan groaned.

"Sir, we searched the entire deck," the trooper said. "There's no sign of the youngest rebel."

" _What?"_ Vader whipped around, and Kallus waited for the telltale shatter of ….

Nothing.

Puzzled, Kallus stood back as Darth Vader censured the unfortunate lieutenant. Remarkable. There was no pressure of animosity weighing on the room. No crumpling of durasteel, no crack of an unfortunate trooper's throat. Darth Vader was shouting, demanding a full sweep of the ship…. And he did nothing to 'sense out' the boy himself.

After a year of holding back, influencing Ezra Skywalker from afar, Darth Vader could not find his own son.

"So it's true," Kallus murmured to himself. "Even the Sith cannot hide from their own weapon."

The bioweapon of Lothal. Infused with the elements of the frudal flowers, tested over six grueling years, it was supposed to cut off all natural connections to the Force, weakening the individuals and making them easy to spot amidst the ordinary population. Two hundred missiles had been launched across Lothal, wreathing the planet with nullifying effects. Already hundreds of citizens had been arrested as hidden insurgents. The Mandalorian girl was a surprise.

How intriguing, that not even Vader could mask the bioweapon's effects.

"Dismantle the ship in the scrapyards" Darth Vader commanded. "Find him!"

"Yes, Lord Vader!"

Jarrus chuckled dryly, mocking when all bravado was vanquished. "Tooka got your tongue? I thought you could track him anywhere."

Darth Vader should have crushed him; strangled him; pummeled him with the Force.

He laboriously reached down and grasped Jarrus' throat, gloved hands squeezing before he punched the Jedi into the opposing wall. "Take him away!"

 _Loth-cat got your tongue?_ Kalus echoed silently. If the Sith were helpless on Lothal, then he and Vader were on equal grounds. Equal chances of locating Skywalker. Of battering the rebellion until the dregs of Lothal were corralled and humiliated.

"Search the ship for life forms," Kallus murmured to his aide. "If you find the boy, I will see to your promotion."

 _And ensure my own._

* * *

Within the hull of the Ghost; crammed into a mildewing sink in the unguarded 'fresher; stowed in the one insignificant room where no trooper would bother to search thoroughly; Chopper huddled with the unconscious padawan. This was Kanan's cub; Hera's smallest Jedi; the crew's stupid idiot. Chopper would look after him.

He shivered, wishing he could zap every stormtrooper and sweep his crew to safety. Instead Chopper waited, hiding in the dripping shadows of the 'fresher sink, until the prisoners were removed and the dark cape swept down the ramp, and Kallus' soldiers trotted off the Ghost to finalize their search.

When the corridors were clear, and the rumbling began as the hapless ship was dragged to an Imperial scrap heap, Chopper eased from the 'fresher and peeked down every hall. Empty. He whistled forlornly.

Gone.

His crew was lost.

He and the cub were alone.


	6. Hidden in Plain Sight

"Chopper?" Ezra moaned, holding his head as he tried to think through the telltale fuzz of a sedative. "What… happened?"

He was somewhere dark. Cold. Wet. It smelled like the air freshener Sabine was always pouring down the sanisteam…

Oh. It _was_ the 'fresher.

Groaning, Ezra uncurled stiffly and wriggled out of the cupboard. "Chop?" he croaked, throat dry. "Chopper?"

 _Kanan… blasters… Sabine's sick… Zeb….?_

"Kanan? Hera?" Ezra called, flopping to his hands and knees. "Is anyone there?"

Immediately a shrieking whirl of bronze droid bolted into the room, shoving him back towards the cupboard.

"What – hey! Chopper – !"

Spazzing like an electroshocked tooka, Chopper flurried his claws in Ezra's face and ushered him backwards.

"Chopper, _enough!_ " Ezra shouted. "Where is everyone?"

The droid's claws dragged and he released a mournful bleep. _Gone_.

"Where?" Ezra demanded. "Was it Darth Vader? Kallus? What happened?"

Worriedly Chopper glanced around, then brandished one claw in front of his dome as though to beg for silence. He swerved noiselessly and slunk in the direction of the cockpit. Ezra followed, trailing his hand along the tilted wall for balance.

For a moment he felt as though Lothal had been destroyed. The comforts of the Ghost – his home for two years now – had been ravaged. The holochess table was cracked in three places. Shattered mugs filled the kitchen. Crushed paint cannisters trailed out of Sabine's room. The wall panel Kanan had been repairing was scoured with blaster residue, melted wires glued to the edges.

The cockpit doors were twisted and rent. Shaking, Ezra bent to scoop up Hera's blaster. "Ch-Chopper… were they … was everyone okay?" he whispered.

Another disconsolate beep. _Alive._

Alive, but captured. Maybe tortured. Maybe executed by now. Dragging his hands through his hair, Ezra slumped on the disjointed co-pilot seat. The pilot's chair had been smashed against the controls.

"H-How?" Ezra breathed. "What do we do?"

Lothal's streets trailed past the grimy, soot-blackened window. Capital City. What had once been _home_ was now Imperial hunting grounds.

 _Why do they need the Ghost?_ Ezra wondered, brushings his fingers against the charred transparisteel. _Why salvage this heap of junk?_

And then the simplicity of the Imperials' imprudence struck him.

They had never found the last of the rebels.

They were delivering him to their prisons unfettered; straight to the cells where he would find his lost crew. He could save them all.

Ezra smiled faintly.

The Force had abandoned him, but there was still hope.

* * *

Monotony.

Bland nutrient mash and a cup of water twice a day. Prisoners were forbidden to converse with the guards. She was not released from her cell even for personal matters. Imperial officials entered the cell five times within the light's period, at irregular hours. There seemed to be a tentative schedule for the light periods, but the dark periods could be interrupted at any given time. She might have been in prison for weeks.

Shivering, Hera hugged herself and paced. Where were they others? Before the attack, Sabine had been inhaling steam just to breathe properly, and Kanan, _Kanan…_

The explosion to the right wing had jammed the cockpit door. By the time the stormtroopers had peeled back the metal, Hera had rigged the alarms and obliterated the Ghost's memory banks. Three stormtroopers had fallen to her blaster before the stun bolt slammed into her stomach. Winded; head spinning; she couldn't even whisper as she was dragged past Kanan, the man who strengthened himself with his charade of control, splayed helplessly before Kallus. Terror - for her, not himself - had reflected in blue-green orbs, and Hera could not respond.

She had lain futilely as Sabine was flung to the ground, dry heaving with frudal effects, and an unconscious Zeb was trussed and tranquilized again. Agonizing minutes later, Kanan was dragged from the Ghost and thrown against Kallus' transport. One of the stormtroopers had shoved his head down and slid a hypo-syringe into his neck. That was the last Hera had seen him conscious before they were separated and boxed into dreary cells.

Her only comfort was that Chopper and Ezra had not been among the captives. She had hope. No communication. No signs of her missing crew. But she was optimistic that two of them were still alive.

"Hang in there," Hera told herself, rubbing her arms uncertainly. "You'll find a way out of this. Sooner or later one of the guards will slip up."

Why had Darth Vader left her in solitude? Where was Kanan?

 _Are you even alive, love?_

She couldn't bear the thought.

"Keep it together, Hera." Breathing deeply, Hera closed her eyes. Inhale three heartbeats, exhale two. In and out. _There is an escape route somewhere. Think, Hera!_

"Hera?"

The Twi'lek spiraled, tripping over her own feet and bruising her lekku. Rubbing her head, she looked about frantically. "Ezra?"

"Up here!"

The ceiling vent pinged and Hera laughed.

"Well, you certainly keep the Empire frazzled." Elation. Hope. Beaming, Hera rose and squinted at the vent. "Where is Chopper?"

"Malfunctioning the security locks," Ezra said. "I've found Zeb – he's okay. Sabine may be in the medical wing. Chopper says they've moved hundreds of citizens down there."

"Hundreds?" Hera brushed her knuckles against her lip in thought. "The bioweapon could have affected everyone."

"Not quite," Ezra said queasily. "The Imperialists seem to be rounding up the ones who are reacting like Sabine. Do you think … not _all_ the prisoners can be Force-sensitive."

 _Force!_ "Where's Kanan?" Hera demanded, urgency clipping her tone.

A sigh came from the vent. "I haven't found him. Chopper says he's not in the systems."

Defeat in his tone. Fear of the unknown.

"Keep it together, Ezra," Hera ordered. "I need a status update on Sabine. Find out how far Zeb is from the medic bay. We'll need a transport to get off planet. While you're at it, listen for any news on Kanan."

"He's not with Vader," Ezra said immediately. Hera noted subconsciously that the lights used to rattle whenever a caped Sith lord was mentioned. "I've seen Vader in the hall. Hera, I don't think he can sense me. Whatever this force-inhibitor is doing, it's protecting us – for once."

"Don't push your luck, Ezra," Hera said sternly. "It won't be long before they scan the prisons for intruders. Find Kanan, contact Zeb, get Sabine out of that medbay, and secure a transport!"

"Got it!" Ezra said briskly. The vent rattled and he was gone.

Deflating, Hera slumped on the bench. They were separated, trapped in Imperial territory. No demands from their captors, no purpose save the acquirement of rebel intelligence. Kanan was gone.

But they had hope.

* * *

Kallus was a fool, as was the Emperor who consistently promoted him.

Incented, Darth Vader strode about the room, expecting glass to shatter behind him. Grating silence followed. Lothal was a cage and he was ensnared in his own masterpiece. The bioweapon's construction was perfect: not only had it obstructed a Jedi's connection to the Force, but it had sealed an entire planet. Years might pass before Lothal was open to the Force. Perhaps the planet would never recover. Eons of generations could be born before one Force-sensitive native was found. The children of Lothal might never become Jedi.

It was as useful as the Death Star's prototype weapon.

It was irksomely deadly to its wielder.

The Force would not answer to Darth Vader. The entire planet had been quenched. Children were listless and animals drooped. The elders could not explain their apathy. No deaths had been reported, but the significant drop in the work force was unquestionable. Every living being had depended on the Force, and now Lothal's existence was stale and worthless. They may as well have turned the planet into an asteroid field.

"Lord Vader," the lieutenant hailed from the doorway com. "The Rebels' ship has been dismantled. No inhabitants were found."

"Search the alleys of Lothal," Darth Vader commanded. "Rout every homestead until the boy is found."

Without the force, he could not lure Ezra to his master. Such efforts were no longer necessary. Soon Kanan Jarrus would be nothing more than a name.

Kallus' plans for the Kessel mines were as folly as his regiments. The underlevel slaves only lasted for so long; the weaker scum for scarce weeks. Darth Vader intended that Caleb Dume would never touch the Force again.

* * *

 **Minor A.N.** The Inquisitor knew Kanan's master was Billapa. I'm pretty sure he would have connected the dots from the Temple Records and passed that information on to Darth Vader - if Darth Vader hadn't known already….

Thank you to heartbreakerninja, , blue candlelight 13, sibuna-daughter-of-aramis, Ichichi05, Rebels-lover, BuruPlays2, Guest Star, Midnight Luna, an two guests for leaving feedback on the last chapter, as well as those who reviewed previous chapters after the acknowledgements!


	7. Breathe

This chapter would have been posted earlier, but you can thank the massive site freeze and a following family outing for the delay. ;)

 **Answered Questions** for Midnight Luna:

"Why would they put Sabine in the medcenter?" The buildup of gunk from her allergic reactions was practically drowning her, and Imperialists can't interrogate dead prisoners. The following chapters should explain more about what happened to Sabine.

"How did Ezra know where to find Zeb and Hera?" Chopper hacked the systems. ;)

* * *

 **Heavy references to _Renewal_ chapter 22, "Stupid Tooka".**

* * *

The medcenter was as stifling and gloomy as an Imperial classroom. Blank walls, white light, the tang of bacta, uncomfortable furniture, and emotionless staff.

Grey, grey, grey.

Sabine, worshipper of color, was ensconced in melancholic tones.

Ezra scrambled from the lowest vent, and wistfully admitted his pathetic lack of growth spurts was still an asset to the rebellion. Tugging his pack free, he skittered to put his back to a desk cabinet. Medical droids and bipedal staff bustled under a drone of condition and status reports.

"Subject 09520 shows a negative reaction to vaccination F60," a male Twi'lek said at the main communications hub.

"Subject 11543 nonresponsive to vaccination F57," a Togruta intoned.

"Violent reaction to vaccine F49 in Subject 07849!" The voice over the speakers was repeated in several trade languages. "I need backup personnel!"

The hustling became a controlled panic as several medics hastened for the designated room. Ezra plastered himself against the cabinet and held his breath as a Gotal rummaged for hypo-syringes. Peeking out, Ezra measured the distance from the cabinet to the central hub. Too many personnel swarmed the circular hall. He needed a disguise – or a full evacuation.

"Young man, what are you doing outside the healing ward?" Blue cone hat and blond hair swerved in from Ezra's right. He spoke without thought.

"Minister Tua!"

 _'Run, Skywalker!'_ she had urged him long ago. He still couldn't understand.

Maketh Tua's eyes widened and she looked around furtively before spinning to the cabinet, puttering through the drawers. "What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"Why aren't you alerting security?" Ezra fired back.

"Because I don't stand for an Empire that tortures children," Tua snapped. "Be quick, now; what is it you want?"

Blinking in surprise, Ezra gusted, "You'll help me?"

"I need the sedatives," a Gotal grouched from the left. Wordlessly Tua handed him a packet of dissolvents.

"I told you to stay off planet!" she hissed at Ezra as soon as the medic left.

"How did you know I was a Skywalker?"

Tua winced and stretched on a fresh pair of gloves. "Agent Kallus left a datapad on his desk. If he learns I had access to those files…."

"No one else knows," Ezra assured. "Why won't you turn me in to the Empire?"

"Enough questions!" Tua said urgently. "What is it you want?"

Sighing, Ezra said rapidly, "I need to find a lost crewmember. She's Mandalorian. Blond and purple hair, and brown eyes."

"Subject 70134." Tua nodded. "I have seen her."

"Why are _you_ here?" Ezra wondered. He ducked into the shadows, force prodding a droid away from the cabinet.

"I have been visiting those affected by the T71F," Tua said. She spun to the closet, yanked out a uniform and facial protector, and plopped them behind the cabinet. "Over three hundred citizens in Capital City alone are showing adverse effects. Here, put these on."

Ezra slithered into the oversized, white scrubs as Tua continued speaking.

"I do not believe all of the citizens involved are Jedi. The symptoms imply normal allergic reactions. Lothal takes pride in our excellent medical care, but there have been adverse reactions to many of our vaccinations."

"I was there when the missiles were launched." Ezra shivered, clinging to a comfort that was no longer there. "Sabine was the only one affected." He was loathe to mention Kanan, remembering how Tua still wanted the 'insurgent' detained.

"She is being well cared for," Tua assured. She stepped aside as Ezra rose from hiding. "All of our patients are. We are not _all_ tyrants, you know."

"I know now." Ezra nodded. Son of Skywalker. Maketh Tua knew, and she had chosen to protect him. Not every Imperialist served Darth Vader.

"Was another citizen brought here?" Ezra asked casually, his voice muffled inside the facial protector. "Tall, dark hair…."

"Your Jedi friend was not among them," Tua whispered. Again Ezra jolted, and she sniffed in amusement. "I am not a fool. I know your pretenses. Lothal has been clamoring for his capture since he first began exploiting the Empire."

"You didn't arrest us when he tripped on that tooka," Ezra noted.

"Oh, is that what happened?" Tua chuckled. She guided Ezra around a droid unit and he almost fancied she could have been his aunt in another time. "I was half-incented to shoot him as a rogue prisoner."

"Why didn't you?"

Maketh Tua looked down slyly and then shrugged. "Perhaps I am a rebel at heart."

Ezra stumbled and nearly headbutted the wall. Tua laughed, briefly explaining to one of the medics, "Yes, he's quite all right. He's a new initiate in training and I offered him a tour of the medcenter."

"But you hate us!" Ezra hissed as soon as the next medical team passed.

"Undoubtedly," Tua agreed.

"You would arrest Kanan if you had the chance?"

"Hmm, for the good of Lothal."

"But you might change your mind halfway," Ezra deadpanned.

"Agent Kallus did say I have a weak constitution," Tua said blithely. "Here we are: Subject 70134."

She hailed the medical droid, who disengaged the locking mechanism and ushered them into a cramped, off-white room. Ezra stuttered.

"I'll leave you two alone," Maketh Tua whispered. She slid an identichip into Ezra's hand. "Flash this before the security officials when you want to leave."

A brisk turn of the shoulders and three clipped steps, and she was gone. Numbly Ezra approached the bunk.

Pale, thin face. Limp hair. Shuttered eyes. Soft puffs under a breathing mask. Sabine looked like a candle abandoned in high sun.

"Sabine?" Ezra whispered, pulling back his facial protector. He squeezed her clammy hand, alarmed by the chill. "Sabine?"

" _Mmm_..." The Mandalorian flinched, tossing her head.

"Sabine!" Ezra said insistently. He glanced at the door, half-expecting a medic to stride in and demand his identichip.

"Sto… Zeb…." Sabine mumbled.

"Sab _ine!_ "

Dark lashes fluttered and honey-brown eyes glittered in confusion. Inhaling raggedly, Ezra brushed Sabine's bangs aside.

"Mom?" Sabine murmured.

"Sabine, it's me!" Ezra grinned, exhilarated that she was alive.

"Ez….?" Sabine squinted and smiled faintly before glancing around. "Kanan's ghost, too?"

Euphoria killed. Ezra sighed. "I'm not a ghost, Sabine. I'm really here." He squeezed her hand in emphasis.

"Here?" Coherency fostered gradually and the Mandalorian's serenity vanished. "Ezra… what're you doing here?"

"I came to rescue you," Ezra whispered conspiratorially. "Chopper rigged the cells where they're holding Hera and Zeb."

"O-okay?" Sabine sniffled.

"Both fine," Ezra assured. Well… Zeb was a little worse for wear. Apparently fighting back during interrogations resulted in rations cuts and electro jabs. Ezra shuddered. "I'm relaying your location to Chopper. As soon as I can find a transport we'll take you – "

"Ez…. Stop…." Exhaling laboriously, Sabine dragged her hand to the machinery behind her. "Can't… go… not… without Ghost."

"What are you talking about?" Ezra exclaimed. "Sabine, we're not leaving you here. We'll bag the stim-shots and get you off planet. You'll be fine within a few hours."

"Ezra." Sabine coughed feebly and smiled. "Ezra… not going anywhere."

"Sabine –" Ezra began crossly.

She cut him off with a lethargic wave. "S'bad, Ez…. Can't leave… machines…. Tried… can't … breathe….."

"You can't breathe?" Fear gripped his own lungs and Ezra instinctively lunged for the Force, trying to wrap it around Sabine and bolster her.

He had nothing.

Sabine sighed. "Go," she urged. "Come back… for me. Medications… should'help, they … said. I'll be fine."

"I'm not leaving without you!" Ezra argued. "We'll rig the transport with antibiotics or – or something." How did this medic stuff work? "No one is surrendering to the Empire."

"Stop … bein'stupid," Sabine mumbled. She tried to roll her eyes, and it was long moments before they opened again. "They know… what they're doing. You don't. … Just… come back… for me."

"We're not –"

"Ez." Pressing a hand against his chest, Sabine tenderly pushed him away. "Go." She smiled mistily. "I'll be right behind."

 _No! No! No!_ This was wrong! Everything was wrong! Kanan should be plotting their escape route; Hera readying the pickup. Sabine should be energetic and free, kerploding Ties with Zeb. They were supposed to stick together!

"Sabine, I can't –"

Suddenly a hand gripped Ezra's shoulder, and white-gloved fingers yanked his protective mask into place. "I'm so sorry," Maketh Tua said in a low, frightened voice, "But you must leave! We will look after your friend."

"I won't –"

"Darth Vader is here!" Tua shoved him towards the door, blocking Sabine from his sight. "Leave by the west entrance. Three halls to your left and down the right. Hurry!"

Ezra turned and sternly met Tua's eyes. "You will look after her."

Tua flinched, and Ezra knew what she saw. It was more than a command. It was past the verges of a threat. He didn't need the force to recognize Darth Vader's influence.

Sometimes Kanan was wrong. The dark side surged whether Ezra chose to embrace it or not.

He whirled and sprinted for the entrance.

* * *

The boy was on Lothal. Somewhere in the crumbling alleys or refugees camps, he had found shelter. Few in the city lived without fear of the Empire, but any one of these could have guided him to a safe haven.

Perhaps the Force had misguided the Emperor. Penning the Force within Lothal had accomplished his purposes, but while the Rebel crew had been captured, Darth Vader could not locate his son. Darth Sidious' right hand could not trace his own blood.

As much as Darth Vader loathed it, he would be forced to rely on Kanan. The boy would return for his master. He would not abandon his father-figure.

And for that reason, Kanan would live. If only to remind his padawan of the futility of the Jedi existence, Darth Vader would ensure his nemesis regretted the day he was born.

Without his hands, he would never wield a saber.

Without his tongue, he would offer no solace.

Without his eyes, he would be helpless to communicate.

Without his legs, he would be less than a corpse; wasted in humility, reliant on droids, begging for the passage of death.

The padawan would do anything to release his master from such an existence. Even if he must slay his trusted guardian. Ruination would be imminent; Ezra Skywalker would fall.

"Bring the Jedi prisoner to the medcenter," Darth Vader ordered his guards. He would expect them to keep Kanan alive after his _incapacitation_.

"S-Sir?" the hapless aide ventured. "Agent Kallus took command of the prisoner. He … received permission from Emperor Palpatine to remove him to Kessel."

 _"What?"_

The aide gulped and closed his eyes. Even without the so-called "Force presence", he swore the ceiling lights frizzled.

* * *

 **Thank you to** : Midnight Luna, Firehawk720, , Classic Cowboy, Guest Star, and AzulaBlue92 for reviewing on the last chapter! _I know some people couldn't leave feedback because of the site crash. If anyone has time to leave one sentence about what you liked in chapter 6, I would love to hear your thoughts. :)_


	8. Stowaway

_There is no fear. There is the Force._

 _There is no fear. There is the Force._

 _There is no fear. There is the Force._

But the Force was no longer here to guide him.

And he was terrified.

 _Hera._ He remembered three stormtroopers dragging her. Dazed, lekku trailing in the dust.

 _Sabine._ Sobbing as she convulsed with thick hacks, sucking for air.

 _Zeb._ Blasted with stun bolts until Kanan dreaded inner damage.

 _Chopper._ Vanished. Possibly disposed of with the rest of the ship.

 _Ezra…._

Kanan gasped shallowly.

Darth Vader would not have given him to the Imperial prison block.

His padawan's nightmares had only begun.

"Do you know what will become of your crew, Jedi?" Kallus boots scuffed within inches of Kanan's nose. He raised his toe slightly, jolting the shock collar.

 _There is no – stop – stop! –_

"Ngh!" Kanan arched, his writhing only intensifying the electricity. Cruelly Kallus watched, regarding his chrono lethargically before crouching to disengage the collar. Gasping, Kanan leaned his head against the floor and closed his eyes.

 _One moment. One moment's rest._ Hours of holding himself inert, waiting for the next involuntary twitch that would activate the collar. Minutes could pass between shockings. Seconds. Every time it spasmed Kallus would reset the mechanism, allowing Kanan a brief respite before the torture began anew.

Don't move.

 _Don't move._

Imperial gloves flicked the collar switch, and Kanan dared not breathe.

"You understand that struggling is futile," Kallus said, as though immune to the realization that a mere shift in the _flooring_ could offset the device. "You cannot escape this time, Jarrus. Your crew will not be there to save you."

He wanted to spit at Kallus' feet. To make _any_ remark that would salvage his pride.

He couldn't risk a glare.

"Your crew rots in the Imperial complex," Kallus said languidly, and Kanan prayed his forceful pacing wouldn't spring the collar. "Your rebellion has failed, and your padawan is dead."

 _No. Not dead._ Even without the Force, Kanan knew. The bond was stronger since his errancy at Mustafar. Whether injured or whole, Kanan could not discern, but Ezra was alive.

"Your crew will die in agony," Kallus said stoically. He paused before Kanan, cold eyes glittering. "Perhaps I shall send your pilot my regards. I imagine her screams will be most –"

The voltage tearing through his throat was worth it. Howling, Kanan slammed both feet into Kallus' knee. He heard the Agent's yell before the roar in his ears drowned out his own thrashing. Barbed ropes vibrated through every limb and someone was screaming, anguished, and suddenly a grey boot filled his vision and there was a crunch in his nose, his ribs, his collarbone, his shoulder, until…..

* * *

His fury spent, Kallus spat upon the twitching Jedi and yanked the control switch. No use delivering a corpse. His knee pulsed with heated waves and the medical droid pestered him to sit down.

"Not yet," Kallus grated. Raising his uninjured leg, he stomped Jarrus' left knee. Kicked it for good measure. _Tolerate that, Jedi!_ There would be no stoicism from his prisoners. Kallus would see him break.

"You ruined everything," he hissed. "My career, the order on Lothal, the establishment, the lives of hundreds of soldiers….!" He paused, yanking the Jedi's head back in case he was feigning unconsciousness. "Yes, Kanan Jarrus. Your efforts have brought only death to Lothal. Hundreds of innocents murdered in the crossfire. Families who will never see their brave soldiers return. How can you endure your own brutality?"

Lashing his boot into Jarrus' chin, Kallus limped away and barked to one of the medical droids to tend the prisoner. The Jedi deserved more than an isolated death. If Kallus had been permitted, he would have cremated the rebel insurgents before him.

Their screams would have contorted the droids' memory banks.

One.

By.

One.

* * *

Chopper was railing into the com before Ezra had cleared the medcenter's staircase.

"I know, I know!" Ezra shot back. "Look, did you spring Hera and Zeb?"

He yanked the com from his ear at the series of frustrated squeals. "Chopper, I can't understand you when you're shouting!"

A distinct rattle of annoyance, and then Chopper dictated gratingly, _Mother-Pilot free. Space-Waffles angry. Orders for you to return immediately._

"Did you find Kanan?" Ezra wasn't going to question the nicknames for Hera and Zeb. Chopper was notorious for glitching his script _only_ when Ezra was in the room.

 _Why you ask you –_ clanging noises forced Ezra to pull the com away again. _Where Paint? Why leave her? Explanation!_

"We can't move Sabine," Ezra said heavily. He looked back at the medcenter, feet slowing as he wondered if that was the last time he saw her alive. "She's hooked up to more machines than your circuits. Minister… we have a sympathizer who promised her safety."

More indecipherable squealing. Chopper was having a rough day.

"Chopper – _Chopper!_ There was nothing I could do! She's safe for now, okay? What about Kanan? He has to be there!"

 _No systems. Kallus smart._ Further clanging, as though Chopper was banging his head on the wall.

"Where is Hera?" Ezra demanded. "Let me talk to her."

 _Space-Waffles sick. Electric pulses go kapow. Mother-Pilot tend._

Ezra winced. They must have shocked Zeb until his system failed. Anything could happen; frayed nerves, sluggish brain pulses, internal damage…

"How bad is it?" Ezra asked roughly.

Uncertain blips follow. _Better. Not. Mother-Pilot tends. Not bad. Bad. Ezra come?_

"Yeah." Ezra sighed. They were all compromised, and they had neither transport nor leader to rescue them. "Are you all safe?"

A blatt of annoyance. _Yes, yes. Come! Now!_

"On my way."

Ezra slipped off the com and adjusted his protective mask, glancing towards the medcenter one last time. He turned abruptly and cried out as he bumbled into a menacing array of black cape and armor.

Falling back on his hands, Ezra stared into the mask of Darth Vader.

He was intensely grateful the medical hood concealed his features.

Darth Vader stared down at the insignificant medical student, one hand twitching as though he yearned to force-choke the clumsy fool. Abruptly he whirled and stalked to an Imperial Shuttle, four stormtroopers in tow.

"Inform Agent Kallus of the Emperor's orders. I want the Jedi _alive_ upon my arrival."

"Yes, Lord Vader."

Gasping raggedly, Ezra scrambled to his feet. _Kanan!_ He had neither the Force nor disguise to see him aboard the ship.

But maybe…..

Spotting a cadet some feet away, Ezra burrowed into his pocket and pulled out a hypo-syringe. It was definitely one of those sedatives Maketh Tua had been fumbling with earlier. _I hope this doesn't have any averse reactions,_ Ezra thought glumly, before he sidled up to the cadet and looped an arm over his shoulder.

"Hey, I saw your cousin in the medcenter today. She wanted me to pass on a message for her."

"I … don't have a cousin," the hapless cadet said, before a stack of crates concealed them and the hypo-syringe numbed his thoughts.

Exchanging uniforms quickly, Ezra clicked on the helmet and activated the com. Bucket team orders, Imperial transports, even the medcenter relays flickered through the channels. Inserting his own com into the headpiece, Ezra ran for the Imperial Shuttle.

"Spectre Three, this is Six. I think I know where to find Kanan." Ezra gulped, ducking onto the shuttle with the last buckethead team. "And I may regret this. Tell Hera I'm going to be fine – and out of contact… Chopper, I _really_ can't understand you when you're shouting."

The ramp lifted and Ezra shut down his personal com. One of the stormtroopers nudged him sympathetically.

"First training exercise off planet?"

Uncertainly Ezra nodded.

"I used to call my sister every time," the stormtrooper reminisced. "Eventually you'll get used to it. Hey, Traik, we've got a new one here."

"A cadet?" the other stormtrooper responded. "We weren't given orders for a training op."

"Must've been last minute. You know how headquarters bumbles orders these days. After that missile incident, I'm surprised the medcenter is still functioning."

"Don't talk about it," muttered a third trooper. "My kid's in there." He looked at Ezra and shrugged sadly. "Maybe you know him. He was promoted some months ago, but you may have shared a class. His name is Zare."

"Zare Leonis?" Ezra gasped.

The trooper nodded, and Ezra felt numb. "Yeah," he said thickly. "I know him."

"First Dhara, now my son," the trooper said darkly. "What more do they want from me?"

"Enough, Leonis," the leader commanded. "We're on orders."

The conversation ceased, and Ezra dragged his foot along the metal flooring. "Um… they didn't have time to read off my full assignment. The officer said you would explain."

Two of the stormtroopers exchanged a glance. "Probably for guard personnel," one of them surmised.

"You'll be charting the new shipment," the leader said. "One of us will supervise your work. Keep your records neat and your head cool, and you'll pass the test just fine."

"Great!" Ezra forced enthusiasm. "What planet are we going to, exactly?"

The leader sighed. "They really are scrambled back at headquarters. Kessel, kid. Lord Vader has business there. You'll have to catch another shuttle home."

"O-okay." Ezra nodded jerkily. The troopers chuckled.

"Relax, Cadet," one said. "We'll see you home safely."

"Kessel is a mean planet," Leonis warned. "Stay with your supervisor and don't wander. This is one outpost you do _not_ want to explore."

But if Kanan was to be found there, then flaunting authority was first on Ezra's agenda.

 _Hold on, Master._ So far from Lothal, he could pretend he had a wisp of the Force in his hand. _I'm going to find you._

* * *

 **Thank you** to AzulaBlue92, heartbreakerninja, , Midnight Luna, Kazie, and Guest for leaving feedback on the last chapter, as well as those who reviewed previous chapters after the acknowledgements!


	9. Turbulence

He could barely move his neck. Stiff muscles clamped into iron spikes, shooting from his skull to his shoulders until the room phased white. Twitching limbs defied his commands and his hands trembled. His throat cracked with every swallow.

"You must calm yourself," the medical droid said impassively. "The electric shocks from the collar have rigidized your muscular system. The effects will fade with time."

Time. What he didn't have. His crew was at Kallus' mercy. Every minute was one slip closer to the dark side for Ezra. His own life was jeopardized from delay.

Yelling between his teeth, Kanan kicked out and was rewarded with a half-hearted twitch from his right leg, along with an excruciating knot. His left knee remained numb.

"There is some damage to your internal system," the droid remarked in the same toneless voice. "You must allow the stimulants to vitalize your bloodstream or else you may suffer permanent nerve damage. Please remain still while the computer assesses your present condition."

"I … don't need … droids tellin' me what'do!" Kanan growled, quivering as he tried to uncurl from his fetal position.

"You will find that movement is possible as your muscles relax. Until then, might I suggest you avoid unnecessary strain."

"You c'n suggest Agent Kallus smears his nose'n the pavement," Kanan grunted. He stretched one arm a centimeter, arching his head back at the tearing sensation. The droid sighed.

"I see you are determined to cause yourself further injury. I will put you in a stimulated rest period until you are recovered."

"No – wait!" Panicked, Kanan instinctively thrust out a hand. The Force sifted lazily around him and flitted away, and the hypo-syringe slid mercilessly into his arm. "Cn't… Lemme….."

Fog greyed his sight.

* * *

"I apologize, Lord Vader. I was acting on the Emperor's orders." Agent Kallus stood unfazed as Darth Vader's gloved hand jabbed from the holo-com.

"You will take your orders from me," Darth Vader instructed. "I am responsible to the Emperor should my plans fail."

"I cannot defy the Emperor's wishes." Kallus bit down a smile. "The Jedi has been detained and, once captured, the boy will be transferred to the Death Star. These are the Emperor's commands and I will answer to his authority."

"That is no excuse. I have already ordered a planet-wide sweep of Lothal. You will leave Skywalker to me."

"That is a matter you will have to discuss with the Emperor." Smoothly Kallus deactivated the com, basking in his petty triumph. He no longer feared the caped impressionist. Darth Vader had a weakness and it carried the name 'son', and Kallus owed little respect to commanders governed by sentiment.

"See to it that the Jedi is removed to the mining corp as soon as possible," Kallus told his aide. "His fate will be an example to other rebels."

And Kallus would gloat over Jarrus' pitiable, half-shattered state when the months passed and his sanity was claimed by starvation and toxic fumes.

No humanoid lived past three years in the Kessel mines. Not even a Jedi.

* * *

"This is it, kid." The stormtrooper leader adjusted his blaster as the Imperial Shuttle docked. "Mostly rocks and ash around here. Your assignment begins in the cargo bay."

"The cargo bay?" _How far is that from Kanan? When do I see the prisoners? How long –_

"It's the usual drill." The leader shrugged. "First you'll take cargo inventory, then the supply hangar, then work force, then engine room function, and finally you'll inspect the droids. You'll have a supervisor for questions – but you should have covered this at the academy. Consider it a 'live review'."

"I'm… sure I'll be qualified for the job," Ezra said weakly. _Why couldn't Sabine be here?_

Or Kanan. He could impersonate anything.

But Ezra had embarked solo this time, and Kanan was the one who was alone.

 _Not for long._ He would hack the main database, search encrypted files, haunt the bucketheads' conversations; whatever it took, Ezra would know his master's fate.

The Ghost crew never gave up on their own.

* * *

"Stupid, stupid kid," Hera growled under her breath as she paced. Pots clattered behind her as Zeb relearned muscular coordination. His legs still jittered and he was pathetically imbalanced.

"I'll end those Imperialists!" Zeb snarled, tossing a pottery shard against the wall. Hera assumed it had been aimed at Chopper.

Sure, escape from the Imperial cells had been effortless compared to the dilemma Ezra had left for them. Kanan: missing. Ezra: no communication within forty-eight hours. Sabine: still cabled to the wall with a breathing mechanism and nutrient fluids.

"Why couldn't he have left his comlink activated?" Hera ranted, half-incented to shatter a pot herself.

"Because he's an idiot!" More crashes. "I told you the Jedi see the worst of every mission."

"Says the Lasat who can barely walk without support."

"I'm perfectly stable!" Zeb strode forward to emphasize and promptly face-planted the wall.

"Perfect!" Hera flung out her hands and begged the heavens for guidance. "That leaves me in charge."

How redundant. She had a half-lucid Mandalorian, two missing Jedi, a jelly-legged Lasat, and a frustrated droid to relocate before Darth Vader demanded executions.

"When this is over, I quit," Hera muttered.

Chopper chittered his advice and the Twi'lek glared.

"Oh-ho, you're not coming with us."

She was going to drag Kanan out by his ear and demand a vacation. Whether or not he was willing.

There was one way to ensure he never walked out on her again.


	10. Plagued

Before the needling currents had faded in Kanan's arms and the buzzing left his skull, the guards had buckled him down, shackled his wrists and ankles, and slid a razor-thin tracking disk beneath his collar bone. He had felt the Force returning – a breath like a fresh spring morning – before a collar snicked into place and he felt empty once more. Glowering at the guards, Kanan mustered a grin.

"Time for departure already? And I was just starting to enjoy the place."

"Be still!" one guard enunciated in a thick accent. He brandished an electro-jabber as the second guard yanked Kanan to his feet.

Outside, polluted mist settled over a desolate pit. Kanan knew where he was.

It was the fate they had spared the Wookies.

It was a death he always dreaded.

 _Sorry, Hera. Guess that was the last time._

 _Zeb, get her to safety. You're responsible for the crew now._

Steeling himself, Kanan raised his head and shuffled his first step.

 _Whatever happens, kid, don't involve yourself. For once…._

 _Don't come after me._

* * *

Three days. Three grueling days of meticulous checklists and more labels to blaster components than Ezra knew could sell on the black market. He was just short of shooting himself when Leonis proclaimed it was time to transfer to the storage compartments for provisions.

"Great! Can't wait! I think I'm getting the hang of this!" _Someone. Please. Shoot me._

Shuffling behind Leonis, Ezra tugged warily on the Force. The clouded sensation still imploded in his head, but he could pick up the drifts of life forms around him. _Kanan? Kanan?_

Nowhere in the hall, that was for sure. Ezra strained to reach further, and winced as pain lanced his skull. He was overreaching himself.

 _Focus!_ Kanan's memory held strong.

 _Wherever you are, Master, I'm not giving up on you._

Darkness pricked Ezra's senses, like a needle digging into the back of his neck. He stiffened and glanced over each shoulder.

"Come on, Cadet!" Leonis called.

"Coming!" The sensation was gone. Erasing the hall footage from his datapad, Ezra hurried to join the commander.

Someone was looking for him.

* * *

The Force on Lothal was smothered. Kessel was not. Once more rage filtered from Darth Vader's curled hands; from his voice that intimidated generals and cowed lieutenants; from his sweeping, broad stride that sent mouse droids scurrying.

The Emperor had applauded Kallus' actions. "Leave the Jedi," he had declared to Darth Vader. "His bones will remain buried long after his deeds are forgotten. Wait for Skywalker. He will come to you, and you will bring him before me."

"He will come to me?" An absurdity. The boy was foolish and naïve, but he was not stupid as Darth Vader's commanders.

The Emperor simpered. "I have foreseen it."

Two days past the transmission, and no transport had reported a smuggler. Perhaps the boy's presence was still clogged by Lothal's effects. Perhaps he was indeed a coward and had fled to regions where the rebellion was unheard of.

No. He would not leave his crew. He was too noble.

"What is the status of the captured rebels?" Darth Vader questioned a droid.

"Systems show undisturbed footage. Cell blocks A77 and J12 are empty.

* * *

Three decks below, Kallus heard the ceiling vent rattle. Cautiously he set his stim-tea aside.

Perhaps he should inspect the hall footage of Lothal's isolation cells. One could never be too sure about rebel spies.

* * *

 **Thank you** to AzulaBlue, Taylor Fireheart, and Midnight Luna for reminding me that authors are fed around here. ;)

School is in full session for a lot of people, so I want to find out how many are still keeping up with the Rebels Fandom. Here's a little poll since Neocolai is bored: **Leave one Capital Letter (any letter of the alphabet) and your favorite Rebels character. (Example: J. Kanan)**


	11. Crackdown

**The poll count panned out to 9-Ezra, 3/4 vote-Kanan, and 2-Sabine. Total of** **10 Contestants and 1 Vowel. Guess we're missing a lot of fans thanks to the horrible S.C.H.O.O.L. word. XD**

* * *

Quick timeline to keep up with events:

3 weeks have passed since the Lothal rebels were captured.

2 weeks since Kanan was deported to Kessel.

1 week since Ezra and Darth Vader arrived at Kessel.

* * *

Sabine knew her own limitations. Krayt, she'd lived with them for seventeen years. Allergies were as invigorating as Force inhibitors for Ezra and Kanan.

But they had survived every encounter with their weakness.

And so could she.

Whatever the medic droids had given her, it had finally settled the phlegm and cleared her lungs. The mask was still necessary, but Sabine knew where the air purifiers were held. As much as she loathed her time at the Lothal academy, it had shown her where Imperialists stowed their equipment. Every room was required to have a breathing apparatus.

Taking one last gulp of frudal-free oxygen, Sabine detangled herself from the sheets and tiptoed to the far cabinet. She had been moved to the community ward just yesterday. _Why_ couldn't they have waited a little longer?

 _Nothing to see here, just a crazy kid leaving her bunk,_ Sabine thought as she weaved between beds. Those Force tricks of Kanan's would have come in handy right now.

 _Ezra, you'd better bring him back in one piece. And if you get yourself captured I will personally polish Kallus' blaster for your execution._

Legs wobbling, Sabine muffled an 'eep!' as she tumbled against another bunk. There went the last of her air. _Why am I doing this?_

"Young lady, this is highly irregular! Are you trying to impede your health?"

Sabine yipped as white gloves took her firmly under the elbow, leading her away from the bunks… and into the outer hall.

"This simply will not do," Maketh Tua said curtly, pausing to fit a breathing mask over Sabine's mouth and nose. "I'm afraid you will have to come with me. I shall have to speak to my superiors about this."

Was that a twinkle in her stern eyes, or had Alderaan just imploded?

"Where?" Sabine coughed as the breather hissed into effect.

"Don't argue with me, young lady. I'm taking you to a secure ward where these mindless, suicidal stunts can be monitored." To a passing medic Tua explained, "I'm afraid she's quite lost her mind. Medical Officer Kauf asked me to escort her to the isolation wards."

The medic nodded, and as soon as he passed the corner Tua tugged Sabine down a branching hall. Sabine gasped for breath, swaying on legs that had been inert for too long. _Why so fast?_

"Sl-slow…."

"We haven't time!" Tua hissed. She yanked Sabine behind her, finally pausing long enough to slide her identichip through the locking mechanism beside a darkened hall door. Prodding Sabine inside, she sealed it behind her and adjusted the crackling lights.

"This way," Tua whispered. "You must move quickly."

 _Is this because of Ezra? Does she know who I am?_

"Where?" Sabine tried again. _Where are you taking me? What did you do to Ezra? Why am I expected to trust you?_

"What took you so long?"

Sabine gasped at the rough, cranky voice, and never had she seen a grander sight than when Zeb yanked off a medical mask and shook his fur awry. Scowling at Tua, he plucked Sabine from the minister's hold and knelt to examine her.

"You all right, squirt?" Crabby green eyes softened as Zeb braced her twiggy arms, afraid of squeezing too hard. "Karabast, you look half dead."

"Zeb!" Laughing, tears running down her face, Sabine clutched his neck and didn't mind at all that he lifted her like a whiny tooka kit.

"Aw, come on, Sabine. Can't have Chopper seeing you a mess like this." His grip tightened.

Hang it all, she didn't care. Zeb was alive, and she was going home. "Wh-where's Hera?"

"Back with the rustbucket." Gently Zeb lifted her, as though her hospital gown was a princess' robe and he was her courier, leading her to the throne. "All right, Minister Tua. You kept your end of the bargain."

"You'll see me off planet safely?" Tua ensured.

"Soon as we have that transport you promised." Zeb nodded gruffly.

"Thank you!" Tua said shyly, and for the first time Sabine realized her benefactor.

"Wait… you're _helping_ us?"

"Your friend made an offer I couldn't refuse," Tua said with a crooked smile. "I trust he returned to his crew safely?"

Zeb rolled his eyes, and Sabine dragged in a sharp breath. "Stupid kid ran off planet. All Chopper knows is that he hijacked an Imperial transport. We haven't heard from him since."

Immediately Tua's expression sharpened to militaristic formality. "Then we haven't a moment to lose. Summon your crew members, and then follow me."

"Zeb!" Sabine hissed past the breather, "How do you know she isn't –"

"She can't round us up if we were already cooped," Zeb retorted. "The Empire knows who the rebels are. All _Tua_ would gain is another shiny medal for our recapture." He still spat the name as though it was Tarkin leading them underground.

"Where is Ezra?" Sabine whispered.

"Off planet. I think he's searching for Kanan. Fool Lothrat."

"How will we find him?"

"You're laying in a bunk until that congestion clears up!" Zeb snapped. "Hera and I will chart the recent exports. Minister Tua thinks she can track Kallus' transport. She'd better hope she's right."

"Oh." Sabine didn't have the energy to say more. She relaxed on Zeb's shoulder, and she wasn't snuggling her cheek against his fur. No matter how soft it was. No matter how much the pungent scent reminded her of the Ghost. No matter how lonely she'd been for the past few weeks.

She was just resting a bit.

Zeb grumbled something under his breath, but he shifted his stance so that one shoulder slumped, allowing Sabine to make herself more comfortable.

"Kids," he muttered.

 _It's gonna be okay,_ Sabine told herself. _We'll find Ezra and Kanan, and then we'll all go home._

 _Doesn't matter where home is, so long as we're together._

And she believed herself.

* * *

"Sabine!"

So many things Hera wanted to do at once; hug the girl tightly, check her breathing, send Chopper scurrying for meds, demand a full report on Ezra's last conversation, scold Zeb for taking so long….

As Zeb set down his quivering charge, Hera settled for the hug. "It's all right," she assured as Sabine clung to her, shivering from three weeks of sickness and unknown medications. "I've arranged a medical bay on the ship and we hacked the medcenter records. We're going to fix this."

"What happened to the Ghost?" Sabine asked, wretchedly assessing the chunky cruiser.

"Salvaged for parts, probably." Zeb spat. "We'll have to scavenge supplies elsewhere."

"You couldn't find our weapons?" Hera said, absently reaching for a Blurgg-1120. She sighed, fingers brushing over her unweighted thigh.

Zeb grumbled something under his breath. Rubbing her hands, Tua said tentatively, "I believe Darth Vader keeps the Jedi's weapon on his transport. Agent Kallus would know the whereabouts of the Lasan weapon. As for the others…."

With a fleeting smile she pulled an orange blaster from her holster, and two Westar-35's from her side pouch. "I believe these belong to you."

Hera snatched for her blaster, inspecting the firing modes until she was satisfied it was charged and efficient. She felt secure once more. "Zeb, use Sabine's blasters for now. As soon as we find an Imperial outpost, we'll pick up a few disrupter rifles."

"Yeah, yeah," Zeb mumbled, obviously sore that Tua hadn't been hiding his bo-rifle in her cone hat. "C'mon, Sabine. We've already set up a bunk on that rat-trap."

Gingerly he ushered her up the ramp, muttering every few yards about "Watch your step" and "Try not to throw up – I just cleaned the blasted floor". As soon as they passed from sight, Hera turned to Maketh Tua. Chopper skittered down and bumped against the Twi'lek's leg, blathering questions of his own.

"All right," Hera said as she folded her arms. "How do we slip past the blockade, and where have they taken Kanan?"

* * *

"Aaaaugh!"

Crates of nutrient cubes. Crates of electric components. Crates of blaster shipments. Crates of durasteel plates. Crates of replacement mechanisms for broken crates.

"I can't take this any longer!" Smashing his foot into a crate only resulted in a dented boot and a battered toe. Yelping, Ezra hopped around until he tripped into a crate of medical supplies.

Crates, crates, crates.

"Why does the Empire care how many napkin wipes were imported to Lothal?" Giving the crate a (more cautious) kick, Ezra slumped against it and searched the Force's ragged strands.

An entire week had been wasted, puttering with crates and schedules and listening to the stormtroopers prattle about new protocols and the "old times" when Lothal had a less rigid academy. Impatient to find Kanan, Ezra had no qualms about removing his helmet and displaying his maroon-tinged, _clearly_ blue hair. Maybe if he was arrested, they would lock him in the same cell block as his master.

It seemed that even the experienced recruits had limited astuteness, however. Only Leonis gave Ezra the occasional odd look, but either he was too kind or too _blind_ to reveal the apprentice. And so Ezra was stuck with crates.

Crates, crates, crates.

Sighing, Ezra laid his head back against the offending metal box. "What does it take to find one Imperialist with the same motives around here?"

The dark side brushed against his mind. Searching. Contending with the lingering effects of Lothal's poison.

Shuddering, Ezra jumped to his feet and began scribbling supply counts into his datapad. The darkness shifted and roved away. Shivering, Ezra blew into his hands and returned to his count.

Maybe he wasn't eager for capture after all.

The hawk was more persistent than the owls.

Darth Vader was near.

* * *

The Emperor's predictions had proved correct. The boy _was_ on Kessel. His presence glowed dimly before vanishing, still polluted with Lothal's air.

Irately Darth Vader paced. The effects of the frudal poison had faded, and the Force was readily summoned, yet Ezra skirted his contact. The boy was as frustrating as his mother.

 _Return to your destiny._

Command.

 _There is no other way._

Compel.

 _You are my son._

Cajole.

 _There will be no other master._

Coercion.


	12. Waver

_**I'm back!**_ Heralding another Rebels season, and hoping most of the fans have returned. (It's been lonely on the Rebels fandom.) ;)

* * *

Timeline:

4 weeks after Rebel capture

3 weeks after Kanan was deported to Kessel

2 weeks after Ezra tagged along on Vader's ship

1 week after Sabine's rescue

* * *

Kallus sipped his stim-tea methodically, listening as ragged screams followed the static of electricity. That made three escape attempts by Jarrus within the same number of weeks. Kallus had put the Jedi's life expectancy at three years – two, given the crooked knee and shoulder. After the last attempt, however, rations would be denied and he would be shunted into the lowest tunnels.

The toxic air would find him before the walls caved.

"I would be surprised if he saw another Empire Day," Kallus mused. A rather anticlimactic end for the rebel leader. Kallus would have preferred a public execution, but the Emperor had made his point clear.

Any glorious finale would rally other systems to Jarrus' cause. Better that this spark was snuffed and forgotten, than cast to the people to ignite further hope.

Besides, it was satisfactory to see Jarrus shuffling to his post, back crooked and left foot dragging, smeared with the grime of hopeless toil, chains scraping behind him. It was a marvel that he had escaped even once, _and_ he had nearly taken two other slaves with him on the last occasion. The Jedi had a tenacity to survive; one that even Vader could not shatter.

"I will speak with the prisoner before he is returned," Kallus ordered the security droids. He waited at his desk, composed as the ragged cries faded into anguished grunts. Perpetual starvation, strenuous labor, pain, isolation, denied rest; each were simple interrogation methods utilized by the Empire. Jarrus had been subjected to all five for nearly a month. He would welcome any means to ease his torment.

If he wasn't so ludicrously _insane._

Kallus released a pent sigh as the crippled Jedi was dragged into his office. "Kanan Jarrus. You never will accept defeat."

A muffled grunt and the scouring from one red-laced green eye. The other was swollen under an impressive bruise, Kallus noted. He might have hired one or two of those slavers himself, if they weren't in the habit of beating prisoners to death

"Are you still denouncing the Empire?" he said with mock incredulity. "The rebellion is smothered, your crew suffers in the interrogation units, your ship is crate parts, and your padawan has abandoned you and _fled_. What can you possibly fight for?" No need to tell him that the rebels had escaped their cells. There was no hope in the spice mines of Kessel.

Jarrus' breathing stuttered, however, and a gleam lit his one good eye. "S'running?"

Not entirely the response he was anticipating. Kallus blinked. "What are you talking about?"

"Zra." Hacking, Jarrus spat out a broken tooth and repeated with a smirk, "You couldn't find'im."

"I'm not sure…." Eyes narrowing, Kallus stood abruptly and strode to the Jedi's side. Jarrus uneasily eyed the agent's boots, then resumed his glare.

"Are you implying…." Again Kallus trailed off, his nose curling at the Jedi's crooked smile. "You never knew…."

"You didn't get th'kid," Jarrus ascertained. "Yer'still searching for'im." He coughed roughly, blood wetting his lip. Kallus was half-incented to kick in his jaw.

"So we have not," Kallus said icily. "But he will not evade us for long. He will return for his crewmates, and _you_ will bring him here."

The impishness remained. Sluggishly Jarrus shook his head. "Can't sense me. S'not coming."

"Oh, he will know," Kallus retorted smugly. "I intend to display your pitiful state on all Imperial channels. When the rebellion understands what their impenetrable leader has been reduced to, they will be compelled to organize a rescue. They will lead us straight to the inner cells."

So Darth Vader had foreseen. So Kallus would see to fruition.

The gleam vanished and Jarrus swallowed, setting his jaw. "They won't come."

"Still fighting for a hopeless cause?" Kallus scoffed. "They have risked their efforts for you twice, Jarrus. They will come again."

"Not this time." Coughing lightly, Jarrus clung to his semblance of control. What a pity the Jedi had no other defense left. "M'not worth it."

The defiance as he spoke – the confidence which neither droids nor the Inquisitor could break – how it infuriated Kallus. Snarling, he nicked Jarrus' jaw and nodded in satisfaction when the Jedi yelped, the remains of his broken tooth cracking inward.

"I wouldn't call you the most handsome candidate for that Twi'lek pilot," Kallus said coolly.

An exhausted glower was all that Jarrus could muster. Green and purple swathed his swollen jaw. One eye was sealed shut, the other a bare slit of green. The maimed shoulder was visibly crooked now, reminding Kallus of the first time the interrogators had dislocated it. The droids had found metal shards in the bone recently, as though the Jedi had been assailed by ship fire some months before. The left knee would obviously pain him for the rest of his life.

And still Jarrus would not be cowed.

"The rebellion has taken everything from you," Kallus remarked. "You could have served under the Empire, preserving lives and safety. Instead you thrive under carnage and ruin. Why?"

Jarrus' expression sharpened. "B'cause I believe in a free Republic."

"Purchased with the souls of countless soldiers," Kallus retorted.

"How many soldiers have _I_ murdered?" Jarrus countered.

Contemplating this, Kallus admitted its truth. For a rebel cell, this one was antagonistically mild. More troopers were found gassed, bludgeoned, or stunned than eliminated. There was a Togruta among the rebels that preferred annihilating all Imperial spacecraft. In comparison, the Lothal rebels seemed to favor survival over kills.

It mattered little. Kallus and his men had suffered alike from the paltry insurgents.

"I would not be so quick to call it _freedom_." Kallus sneered as he booted the Jedi's ribs. "The Republic long overlooked the state in which you now find yourself. The Kessel mines, Tatooine, the slaver ships all across the galaxy… Freedom is the right for any scum to corrupt a weaker system. Freedom allows the individual to choose which depravity they prefer. It was freedom that allowed the Senate to overthrow your Jedi Order."

Jarrus hissed low.

"The Empire has brought order to your _freedom_ ," Kallus said. "Your Republic forgot the matters of truth and justice. Your Jedi were useless in a galaxy frivoling in impiety. It was the Empire who reminded each system what loyalty and kinship meant."

"How does a massacre remind _children_ what loyalty means?" Jarrus grated.

Kallus sneered at the prone Jedi. "It reminds them what to fight for. No more petty quarrels over protocol and status. No more battles for individualism. Together, they find their place in the new order and learn what it means to thrive."

"Under your dictatorship."

"Under the Emperor's benevolence," Kallus corrected.

"Without a choice."

"Did they have a choice once your lightsaber-wielding fanatics barged into the room?" Kallus inclined his head. "Aggressive negotiations? Coercive threats? Tell me, Jarrus; how many were killed in the crossfire between Jedi and droids?"

The Jedi lowered his head, and Kallus deduced.

"Too many for _children_ to justify."

"Shut up," Jarrus growled low.

"I'm afraid I give the orders around here," Kallus said smoothly. He motioned to the droids. "Think about it, Jarrus. What more will you sacrifice for the cause of slaughter?"

"I said, shut up!" Jarrus balked against the droids, chains tangling around his ankles as he was dragged to his feet. He clumsily kicked at Kallus, only to bark in pain as the electrojabber clipped his side. Imperturbably Kallus settled into his chair.

"Return him to the taskmasters. Tell them I want him alive until the next Empire Day."

Jarrus spat a curse and Kallus waved it aside. "And one more thing… Secure the holofootage of the last three weeks. I want Jarrus' face across every holonet station."

Another foul insult spewed from the Jedi's mouth. Kallus sipped his now cold tea.

"You should have restrained your efforts to Lothal."

The entire rebellion was now at stake, all for the capture of one man.

The Emperor was as cunning as his apprentice.

* * *

"If Kallus' last transport routed to Kessel, we're going to need more than an Imperial transport," Hera estimated. Her voice rasped from weeks of poor sleep and increasing strain.

"Uh, Hera," Zeb said softly, his hand engulfing her shoulder. "Maketh Tua's still charting the systems. We only have one shot at this, you know. Why don't you rest for a while. I'll handle the crew."

Numbly Hera shook her head. "We can't stop." _Kanan._ Four weeks without knowing where he had been taken. The last time Kallus had captured her Jedi… Hera rubbed one arm, remembering the scars that twisted her confident leader.

 _Find him, Ezra._

"Hera," Zeb urged, "Chopper installed the filtration system, so you can stop worrying about Sabine. Word out is the Imperialists are still hunting for the kid; he's taking care of himself. Tua won't return for another five hours. One hour of sleep won't change anything."

Rubbing her fingers along her brow, Hera nodded. Zeb was right. Even if Tua returned now with the information, she couldn't pilot if she was exhausted. They all needed to be ready.

"Tell Chopper to keep sweeping the Kessel databanks," Hera said around a yawn. "I don't care if they never tag new prisoners. There's gotta be something."

"Yeah, Hera. Go on, now."

Zeb waited until the pilot's door slid shut before activating the last message from the Fulcrum. He had already seen the news; prevented Hera and Sabine from glimpsing the grisly footage; smashed a fuel vent in his rage.

Beneath the battered, unrecognizable footage of Kanan, the Fulcrum's message denounced hope.

 _Trap. If you attempt to retrieve him, we cannot back you._

The Ghost crew was a three-legged nexu without fangs, flying solo into a krayt den.

Once again Darth Vader had severed them from their alliance.


	13. Sith Lord

**Yay! Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter! It was a great welcome back into the fandom.** **(No, I haven't seen the newest episode yet, but I will... eventually... when I'm not balancing twenty tasks and a character profile. Egad, I'm lucky to have posted a chapter this week. Thanks again to those who reviewed and reminded me that this story existed!) XD**

* * *

Timeline:

4 ½ weeks after Rebel capture

3 ½ weeks after Kanan deported to Kessel

2 ½ weeks after Ezra tagged along on Vader's ship

1 ½ weeks after Sabine's rescue

* * *

He should have known it was inevitable. Just because the Force avoided him didn't mean it couldn't be harnessed by someone else.

Darth Vader had never _breathed_ in the poison, after all. Masks equated for an unholy state of prevention.

Ezra barely sensed the Force's warning before he turned the corner and slammed face-first into an armored suit. Gloved hands gripped his forearms and a black cloak brushed his cheek, as the _h-turrr_ of hated breathing filled his mind.

 _No!_

"No! _No!"_ Wrenching against the metal clamps, Ezra struggled, boots skidding uselessly on the floor.

"My lord!" the stormtrooper captain called out. "That cadet is one of ours. It is my responsibility if he –"

"You have been shielding a rebel spy." Expertly Vader twisted both of Ezra's wrists into one gloved fist, the other hand ripping away his helmet.

The stormtrooper captain stepped back, blaster falling at his side. "The Lothal rebel," he realized at last. There was regret in his voice.

"Return to your duties, Captain. I will interrogate the rebel myself."

"Yes, my lord." Again his reluctance was clear. Ezra cast the stormtrooper a frantic look. Shaking his head, the leader turned away.

"Where is Kanan?" Ezra shouted, whipping around to kick Vader's thighs. His wrists creaked and he whimpered as Darth Vader's grip tightened.

"Mind your tongue, boy. Your master's life is in my hands. I would not squander my patience if I were you."

"How do I know he's even alive?" Ezra ground out. "Or that you won't kill him as soon as I agree to training?"

He couldn't be sure. Wouldn't. Darth Vader never kept his word.

"Those tactics are not befitting of my apprentice," Darth Vader said. "You are no longer a child, and those games have come to an end. You will accept your destiny or you will waste in a cell, wondering what has befallen your rebel friends."

"Don't I get a third option?" Ezra snarled, unsurprised by the strike to his scarred cheek.

"Your sharp tongue will accomplish nothing. There will be no escape route this time. You will master the Force or you will see the death of every rebel in your alliance."

"I'd see them die either way," Ezra hissed. His vision. Darth Casus. That was what Vader wanted. An apprentice who would slay his own father to accomplish the greater means.

And Ezra knew _exactly_ how to win.

"You don't have to threaten me anymore," he said quietly, relaxing his clenched fists. "I understand now."

He did. There was only one way.

Raising his chin, Ezra said brashly, "I accept your training."

Darth Vader visibly started. " _What?"_

"I accept your training," Ezra repeated. He paused, peered into the soulless, dark eyes, and resolutely added, "Master."

Slowly Darth Vader assessed his sincerity. "This is your final decision."

"This is my decision." The dark side wrapped around him invitingly, and Ezra embraced it, shivering as cold slipped into his chest. "First, I want Kanan to go free. I don't need him anymore."

Dubious, Darth Vader released Ezra's wrists and watched as he rubbed circulation back into his hands. "You will sacrifice everything for your master."

"Everything," Ezra vowed.

"Your loyalty is foolish."

"You know as well as I do that if he's dead, he'll still haunt me." Ezra quirked a smile, and it felt good when Darth Vader stuttered. _No, not good. Stop. Stop this now!_ He pushed the warning aside. "His spirit would never leave me alone if he was killed."

"Indeed….." Assessing. Probing.

Ezra knew there was no falsehood to be found in his words. Darth Vader wasn't the only one who could hide his intentions. He folded his arms and shrugged. "If you won't train me, I'll find the Emperor. I'll be a stronger apprentice than you ever were."

A dark chuckle slipped from the mechanical frame and Darth Vader released his saber. "At last you accept your full potential."

"Let Kanan go first." The dark side shifted uneasily, and Ezra hastily clarified, "It won't be long before I capture him myself. I want to be the one to end him."

Triumph engulfed him as Darth Vader gripped his shoulder. Ezra cringed, knowing there would be a bruise. "It is as the Emperor has foreseen. Rise, my new apprentice."

"I'm already standing," Ezra mumbled.

"Your assignment begins with the rebels of Lothal. Demonstrate your fervor and wipe them out."

"Wait – you're not even giving me a day to think this over?" Ezra said incredulously. "You said you'd train me!"

The hand on his shoulder dug in and Ezra buckled, biting his lip as the joint twisted. The dark side battered him raw.

"Prove your allegiance and I will consider your training," Darth Vader said. "Until your return, the Jedi remains in captivity. Pray he does not perish in your delay."

Rubbing his shoulder, Ezra scrambled away. _Wrong! Wrong! Run while you can!_

But the dark side was so much easier to slip into. Surging past the frudal effects, it swamped him with cool promises of valor.

 _You could kill Darth Vader. Save them all. Destroy the Empire._

There was one way to accomplish all of that, but it would not be carried out by a Jedi.

Ezra's vision had been true all along.

Darth Casus was the key to his family's freedom.

* * *

"Kessel coordinates are locked. Everyone ready for this?"

"Uh – Hera – just remember, it's not the Ghost," Zeb said anxiously. "Don't push our luck."

"All systems go," Sabine said.

"Remember, we're an ordinary transport," Maketh Tua urged. "A supply ship returning to Kessel to refuel."

"Got it," Hera said shortly. "Chopper, check those fuels cells for me. It's going to be a jarring ride."

Zeb was already clutching the armrests, his jaw frozen in panic. Sabine strapped herself into the seat beside him and adjusted the new air filters in her helmet.

"First stop is the prison block," Hera said grimly. "Hopefully Ezra will contact us by then."

"Yeah, what could go wrong?" Too cheerfully, Zeb knit his hands behind his head. His eyes wavered. Scared.

Hera didn't press. She had seen the holopics. Sabine was the only one who knew nothing of the brutality Kanan was suffering – if he was still alive. The only comfort Hera could draw – the only proof that kept her sane – was knowing that he was indeed on Kessel. Had been alive. Fighting to the end.

"We'll find him," Hera murmured resolutely.

Kanan was a survivor. He would wait for them.

* * *

It was eerily trifling to toy with the dark side, even for an honorable cause. The Force had bucked from Ezra's attempts until the dark side rushed in, tingling his hands, feet and head with ripples of power. It was the fyrnock and Mustafar all over again, and this time he was in control.

It was wrong.

He had never felt better.

"I won't lose myself," Ezra swore. To himself. To Kanan. To the voice of worry clamoring in the back of his mind.

He had foreseen the end to this. Darth Casus would eradicate the Empire and the Ghost crew would live.

Shuddering, Ezra snatched his hands from the transport console.

 _Kanan!_

He had never seen him in the vision.

 _What if I was already too late? What if Vader –_

No time for doubts.

No time for regret.

Steeling himself, Ezra opened himself up to the Force. The Light shied away.

The Darkness welcomed him.

Blue eyes snapped gold.


	14. Pawns

**Haha, so many shocked responses last chapter! XD** That plot twist caught me by surprise while I was writing. I was going to have an awesome "Kanan is rescued and Ezra gets all his confidence" rally, but Darth Vader started threatening me for making him an old grandpa... so yeah. Awesome Sith Lords win the day for now. ;)

AzulaBlue92 - The story you're looking for is "Visions". Chapter 1 is the basis of Ezra's actions right now, but **Kanan's vision is going to be important later on.**

* * *

"Rickety bucket of bolts," Hera grumbled, rapping her fist against the dented durasteel plating. "For this I lost my ship?"

She had landed the pathetic excuse for a cruiser on an asteroid shy of Kessel's atmosphere. Maketh Tua was advising Zeb's plan of attack, while Sabine updated the supply stores.

"So… we have three blasters between us, no lightsabers, no bo-rifles." The Mandalorian shook her head, her voice tinny inside the mask. "We can use the ship's cannons, but we're crippled banthas if there's a ground assault."

"Where is Ezra?" Hera cursed fluently in her tongue, and Sabine whistled.

"O-okay, that was the weirdest thing I heard since Zeb started shouting about Sith spawn."

"When was that?" Hera raised one eyebrow in dull amusement.

"Right after the Ghost zapped Kanan." Sabine snorted, a sound too close to a sob. "I … I guess I miss the Phantom. Even after we get everyone back…."

Not _if_. When.

"We'll find another cruiser," Hera assured, remembering her smooth controls and seamless hyperdrive. "Who knows; maybe the holochess table survived the scrap heap."

Again Sabine snorted, adjusting her blaster from stun to void to full charge. "It'll be kinda fun to hear them arguing again…."

Kanan and Ezra. Mustafar had twisted them. Called upon a darkness that even Zeb couldn't understand.

 _What is happening to them now? What are we losing? How can they possibly heal again and again and again? Until what? The end of the Rebellion? The Empire? What more can we give?_

Too often Hera had waited helplessly for her boys to return. Enough was enough.

Lekku swinging, the Twi'lek whipped around and snicked her blaster into its holster. "Chopper, take us into Kessel's atmosphere. This trash heap doesn't need much to pilot."

"Hera, what are you doing?" Zeb called, his ears perked in alarm.

Joining them at the table, Hera peered intently at the spice mine layout. "You're not leaving me behind."

It had been too long since she'd jumped into a firefight.

One Jedi had done the same for her long ago.

 _I'm on my way, Kanan._

* * *

 _What are you_ _ **doing**_ _?_

Shakily Ezra swallowed, lips dry and tongue thick. In his hand rattled two kyber crystals.

Blue. He knew Darth Vader had kept it. It was his saber's original crystal, given to him in the Lothal Temple, lost on Mustafar.

Crimson. Sabine must have incinerated the synthetic crystal Darth Vader had inserted in Ezra's lightsaber before, because this one felt different.

Deliberately locking it into his saber made the darkness seem cruder.

Biting down until his jaw ached, Ezra thrust the blue crystal into his pocket. This wasn't permanent. He had a choice.

" _Prove your loyalty to the Emperor."_ Opposing crystals had clinked in Darth Vader's palm as he regulated Ezra's first mission. _"Your rebel friends are waiting for you."_

" _They're not my friends."_ The flash of sincerity had fisted in Ezra's chest and he had almost lost his nerve.

" _No. They are your targets."_

" _Understood."_ How hard it had been to force calm with those three insignificant syllables. Darth Vader had sensed his turmoil; left him to his own decision; silently promised that he would succeed Ezra's mission and slay them all if he failed.

Darth Casus.

Slipping into the persona of his vision, after a year of fighting his own darkness, was excruciatingly easy.

 _The son takes after the father._

Anakin Skywalker had fallen.

Ezra was not far behind.

More now than ever, he accepted the truth.

He was his father's son.

* * *

"You mean he _came_ to _you_?" Aghast, Kallus set his cup down as tea sloshed over his glove.

"I warned you about interference," Darth Vader said sternly. "By removing his master from Lothal, you impeded my plans."

"But the boy came to you," Kallus repeated. "Of his own accord?"

Darth Vader stilled. "He was … unwilling."

Unwilling, indeed. Darth Vader had sensed his despair, and his son had reacted in the same manner as Anakin had sixteen years before.

Panic.

Instability.

Desperation.

He had thrown himself into the dark side, believing there was another way out.

Foolish child. Once a Jedi started down the dark path, forever it would dominate his destiny.

The Emperor would soon see the birth of Darth Vader's apprentice, and Darth Sidious would fall.

' _Do not imagine that your inner convictions will save you,'_ Darth Vader intercepted his son's thoughts. _'If you fail, the Emperor will finish off your rebel friends. He is not as forgiving as I am.'_

Fear shuddered the boy's signature. Ezra understood. This was no game of 'play Sith until my crewmates are safe'. He would succeed or he would crawl over their tortured remains. Merciful death or slow agony; their fate lay in his hands.

Ezra Bridger would ultimately fail.

For the true son of Skywalker to be born, Darth Casus must rise.

* * *

Kessel. Planet of honor and depravity; of enrichment and poverty. The civilian realm gleamed in the noonday sun, but in the shadows on the opposite side of the planet, the mine pits were sullied with death.

 _Kanan is here?_ Sabine thought with a shiver. She clutched her helmet, breathing in the fumes of acidic spices, blasted carbon, and sun-tortured rock. No frudal flowers here. Not even a blade of grass in this wasteland.

"How will we find him?" Sabine whispered past her parched throat.

Grimly Hera stepped forward. "We encrypt the systems. We interrogate the guards. Maketh Tua can inquire of the hierarchies." Turning back to Sabine, she said gravely, "You're our only backup."

Sabine nodded. She had donned the cadet armor from the Lothal Academy mission. Hera and Zeb could infiltrate the mines under slave disguises, but Sabine was the only one who could track down Ezra within Imperial lines. Numbly she clipped on her helmet, remembering the last time she had worn the uniform and how easy the mission seemed compared to now.

 _I could fail. We could all fail._

Zeb or Hera could be killed, or worse – trapped forever in hopeless slavery. Kanan could already be dead.

Ezra could….

 _Don't think about it! Don't you dare!_

Sabine had watched the sturdy path of Kanan's mentoring slide into a rock-strewn, perilous slope. Ezra's fits of temper; his doubt; the inclination that there was no other choice but violence….

What if Darth Vader had found Ezra first?

 _Don't give in to him, Ezra. Please!_

Shaking her head briskly, Sabine chastised herself. She was behaving irrationally. Imagining failure before they had even set out – what kind of morale was she inspiring? Hera couldn't bolster them all. Kanan needed their help, and Zeb wouldn't be accountable for his rage if things went wrong. They needed someone to remain calm.

 _Guess it's up to me, then._ Blowing out slowly, Sabine forced herself to relax. She would find Ezra. Reason with him if she had to. Bring him home.

 _You're only imagining things,_ she reminded herself severely. Ezra would never give in. He was a Jedi, and a true friend.

Unease gripped Sabine and she glanced at the sharp crags behind them. Intuition was sometimes more forceful than instinct.

"Chopper, you need to check the perimeter," Sabine warned into the com. Palms clammy, she searched that inner sense that her mother had proven time and again when her children were in danger. "Hera, something's off. We should – "

A shriek of alarm, and a hundred pounds of astromech droid smashed into Sabine from behind. Hera was shouting and Zeb's blaster was raised in defense –

Durasteel exploded.

Flames.

Ringing in her head.

Mist fogging her vision.

Mouth dry. Hurting hands. Back spasms.

A warm hand rested on the back of her neck. Wincing in the sunlight, Sabine raised her head to meet golden eyes.


	15. Betrayal

Thickly Ezra swallowed. Hand braced across the back of Sabine's neck. Smoking ruins of the transport behind him. He felt sick.

He had ensured everyone had left the clumsy transport before rigging the thrusters. Even Chopper – irate and devastated as the poor droid was – had been Force-shoved from the vessel before it was detonated. But the look in Sabine's eyes….

"No – Sabine, don't," Ezra urged, kneeling beside her. "It's just a ruse, I promise. I – I had to blow up your ship. You – "

"You did that?" Sabine whispered hoarsely. Hera rolled upright across from her, eyes wide with disbelief.

"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" He didn't care if wretchedness dulled the cold. Let Vader sense his devastation and ruin. It would only confirm what Ezra wanted him to believe. _They're dead. They're dead. Trust me._

"Ezra," Hera breathed.

Zeb shook debris from his fur, clearly suffering from a knocked skull. Without glancing at Ezra he muttered, "Well, at least we don't have to track the kid down."

The Lasat looked up at Sabine's whimper, and his ears plastered against his head. "Uh…. Kid….."

Ezra knew what they saw. The yellow eyes. The cold indifference. It _hurt_.

"Listen," he said, rising jaggedly. "I know what you're thinking. And … it's true. I told Darth Vader I would accept his training." Clamor rose and Ezra shouted above them all, "It's the only way to get Kanan back alive!"

"Ezra, you're negotiating with a _Sith Lord_ ," Hera hissed. "They lied to the Senate, they're lying to you! Has Kanan's training meant nothing?"

"I'm doing this to save him!" Ezra retaliated. "Darth Vader wanted me to kill all of you – or else he'll send you to the Emperor and force me to watch your executions."

Sabine sucked in a breath, her gaze still reproachful.

"I'm not a Sith," Ezra enunciated. "And I'm not going to kill anyone. I need you to vanish – find a deserted planet to hide out on until the Emperor is dead. I'll bring Kanan to you."

"You're going to assassinate the Emperor," Hera realized. "Ezra, have you gone mad?"

"Too late to ask that," Zeb spat. "Kooky kid just took a leap off Mustafar's pit." Anger and betrayal burned in green eyes. Ezra cringed, instinctively stepping back.

"No, it – it's not like that!" he insisted. "I'm doing this for Kanan – for everyone. Darth Vader won't stop until I'm his apprentice and you're a forgotten holopic like the Bridgers!"

"The _Bridgers_?" Sabine echoed.

Speculation mingled with suspicion, and Ezra knew that she was pulling together his deception. _Now you know._ He lowered his eyes in regret.

"Ezra, you're not thinking straight." Now Hera's voice was coaxing; terrified. She held out one hand and Ezra balked away. He couldn't let her touch him – not now, when he was ready to crumble.

"Ezra!" Hera repeated fervently. "This is not how Kanan would have wanted it. We need you to be Lothal's light; not the Empire's scourge."

"What is the difference?" Ezra clenched his fists, and a stone near Chopper fragmented. "There is _nowhere_ left to run. There won't be a next time for Kanan! I'm going to end this before someone else is killed!"

Before he could say more, limber arms wound around his neck and Sabine's cheek was pressed against his ear. Her shoulders trembled.

"Ez!" Sabine stuttered, "Ezra, stop! I know this isn't you. This hasn't been you – not since Mustafar, not since the Academy. I know that whatever Vader said, it's killing you inside. That's what the Empire did to me. You're more than that, Ezra! You're a hope to everyone – to Lothal, to your parents' friends – and to me!"

Before she could beg him – before she could break him – Ezra tore away, clinging to the fraud that would clinch his resolve.

"They're not my parents, Sabine."

Shaken, yanked to the lowest brink of emotion she could remember and then thrust away like a foolish child, Sabine wiped her eyes furiously. "What?"

It was easy to feel cold when there was nothing left to cherish. "They're not my parents," Ezra repeated stonily.

"Ez –"

"Kanan never told you." There was no accusation in Ezra's tone, but Hera stiffened at the surfacing of blame. Ezra glanced at Zeb, then at Maketh Tua. Faintly he said, "Thank you for protecting my secret."

"I – I don't know what…." Dazedly Tua looked between the crew members and then sat back, hugging her knees to her chest. This was beyond her capacity.

Raising his chin, Ezra admitted blatantly, "The Bridgers weren't my parents. I was adopted."

"Something's wrong with his head," Zeb growled.

"It's the truth," Ezra stated. "I was hidden by the Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi. My real father …." His chest felt heavier than when the gotal had punched him. "My real father is Darth Vader."

"Karabast, his skull must've caved in!" Zeb exclaimed.

"What?" Sabine shook her head in distress. "You can't believe that….."

Hera was silent. She glanced sideways at Maketh Tua, who looked away. Sighing, Hera slowly approached and laid a hand on Ezra's shoulder. Nonthreatening. Harmless. He didn't pull away.

"No one can stop you." The words were unfeeling, and Ezra flinched. Hera's eyes narrowed. "No one can stop you," she repeated. "The choice to leave is your own. But I will not force Kanan to fight you."

Her fingers were snagging his lightsaber before Ezra could think. Shouting, he thrust her away and grabbed the handle, crimson blade igniting before Hera's nose.

"S-Stay away," Ezra stammered, horror stopping his lungs. "Stay away from me!"

"You realize what this will do to Kanan?" Hera hissed. "He invested his _life_ in you! He gave himself to the Empire twice to rescue you!"

"And now I'm returning the favor!" Ezra's hands shook as he shuffled back. He saw Chopper spinning in from the left and Force-shoved the droid away. "No, Chopper!"

Hera lunged forward, and Ezra barely dodged the stun bolt. The red saber wavered too close to the Twi'lek's lekku and Sabine screamed.

"Hera!" Zeb roared.

"Get back!" Ezra cried out, his voice breaking as he flipped the handle around to the blaster setting. "Please!" Shame trickled down his cheeks as he emphasized, "I don't want to hurt you!"

Hera's hand fell limp as she stared, compassion encompassing disappointment. "Ezra, point it at the ground."

Gasping, he did so, a breath of hope adding to the frenzy in yellow eyes. Hera resolutely held his gaze.

"Go," she said softly. "Tell your master you finished your task."

With an inarticulate cry Ezra broke free. Stumbling. Running. Falling. Tearing on. Watery film hazed his vision and he collapsed, sobbing, hiding himself behind the shadows that had epitomized his life. He heard Hera call to Sabine, preventing her from following.

Curling into himself, Ezra buried his face in his arms. A clearer voice thrummed in his head and anguish rent him anew.

" _Well done, my son."_


	16. Zenith

**Whoo-hoo! I finally get to catch up on the latest Rebels episodes! I'd forgotten how much I liked that series...**

* * *

The Jedi was more battered than Kallus had last seen him. Swollen jaw, gashed brow from a mine blast, bruised hands, bent in slightly to ease damaged ribs. He should have been dragged into the room. He should have been wallowing at Kallus' feet, instead of hovering in that crooked, infallible stance.

He refused to kneel.

Kallus' lip curled. Younger than himself, taller if not for the lopsided shoulder and bent knee, the insurgent was more stalwart than his circumstances permitted. He should be groveling before the Imperial hand, begging for his life. He should be cowering at the mention of Darth Vader.

Jarrus dragged himself to attention and smirked.

"Loth-cat got your tongue, Kallus?"

Casually Kallus backhanded that visible, gleaming eye. He circled slowly as the Jedi stooped, coughing, and waited until the fit had passed. Calculatedly Kallus assessed the decrepit condition. He had half expected the Jedi to be dead within two months. The harsh conditions of Kessel were brutal enough without the added beatings and withheld rations. The fact that this miserable lichen had survived for so long – without any connection to his beloved Force – gave Kallus reason to admire his resolve.

Jarrus would have made a fine Imperialist. With his intuition, he could have surpassed Kallus by now.

"You dragged me down," Kallus said flintily. "You could have brought order to the Empire. Children would have revered you. Why must you instill fear in them?"

A flinch. With the body hampered, the mind wandered. Guilt was a powerful asset.

Sensing his advantage at last, Kallus smiled thinly and drew behind the Jedi to whisper, "Even your padawan has understood the value of the Emperor's rule."

Visibly Jarrus startled. One green eye widened, and then narrowed in disdain. "Criticizing the kid again, Commander? You're running out of cards."

Expensive leather squeaked behind Kallus' back and he gritted his teeth. Trust the Jedi to incite his temper. "It's _agent_ now," Kallus corrected smoothly. "Why don't you tell me about your apprentice? Loyal to a fault, I expect. One who would never betray your motley crew."

"What do you want, Kallus." Anger sharpened Jarrus' tongue. He was unyielding, but not invincible.

The Inquisitor had loved toying with his prey; drawing out backstory and hints of disaster until the prisoner was writhing in despair. Kallus appreciated a direct, cutting approach.

"Your padawan has been found, and was destroyed by Darth Vader's new apprentice."

Weakened, the Jedi could not disguise his alarm. His shoulders rippled before his jaw twitched in stubborn refusal. "I've heard that story before."

"Really?" Kallus bit down a sneer, dragging out the suspense. He had imagined breaking Jarrus since the Wookies were freed on Lothal. Witnessing the Jedi's unravelling was more satisfying than his recent promotion. "And what if I were to tell you that a new Sith lord has risen; a youth by the name of Darth Casus."

Jarrus' swollen eye slit open, dismay tinging blue-green. Whoever had broken into Kallus' top security files, he was pleased that they had passed the information along.

"Yes, Jedi. Your padawan has finally realized the error of your rebellion. Your efforts to save him were valiant, but foolish. He was always destined to rule in his father's stead."

Jarrus gritted his teeth, no doubt drawing on the pain of his cracked jaw to steady himself. "The Empire's lies are growing worse."

"On the contrary." Kallus withdrew a droid's security holo, recorded moments before the poor insentient creature was melted into a scrapped hull. He replayed the evidence, allowing Jarrus to watch his crew one last time, before a familiar, blue-haired youth flung a detonator into their midst.

Jarrus shouted and twisted his bound hands, thrusting his elbow into Kallus' stomach. _"What did you do to him?"_

The clamor drew more guards, and Kallus stood by serenely as Jarrus was electrojabbed into an insensible heap. Twitching. Helpless. Breaking.

Stretching his gloves, Kallus nodded for the guards to leave the room. He stepped before the gasping Jedi, nudging his cheekbone with steel-capped boot. Jarrus spat blood on his trouser leg; a pup's toothless worrying at a wolfhound. Unworthy of Kallus' castigation.

"Droids cannot lie," Kallus told the Jedi. It was a pity the sentry had been melted before it could record the burning corpses. Sith lords could leave horrific skeletons in their wake. "The Emperor has accepted Vader's new apprentice. Where do you suppose he will strike next? His home planet? Or perhaps he will pay his respects to his old master."

"Or a hated foe," came the silky, confident tone, moments before a red lightsaber spurted from Kallus' chest.

He had a moment to hear Jarrus' cry of dismay.

To panic at the crushing weight in his lungs.

To glance over his shoulder at smug yellow eyes.

To realize that perhaps Darth Vader couldn't contain his pet after all.

The floor collided with Kallus' back, and he mused with a whimper that it would have been better to spend the morning searching for his old pair of gloves instead of haranguing Jedi.

A black cape swathed his vision moments before grey filled his sight.

* * *

"This is crazy," Sabine whispered as she peeked around the bay door. Zeb's hand snipped out and eased drew her into the shadows again. "So what's the plan, Hera?"

Hera's stony eyes were matched only by her silence. She gripped her blaster, reflexively adjusting the power cells as each stormtrooper passed.

"Might I suggest we find another means of securing a transport?" Tua asked uncertainly. "I would offer to infiltrate myself, but I don't think my clearance will – "

"Bridger said there would be a transport available," Hera said coldly.

Sabine exchanged a glance with Zeb and blew out a slow sigh. Bridger. Not 'the kid'. Not even 'Ezra'. _You're in_ _ **so**_ _much trouble after we find Kanan._

"I don't mean to pry," Tua pressed, "But you cannot confront _fifty_ guards! There may be another way if I can just –"

"Hold it right there!"

The buckethead nearly met his untimely end as three blasters leveled at his skull. Maketh Tua's eyes flashed as she leapt in front of him.

"Wait! Hold your fire, all of you!"

Gasping softly, Sabine nudged Zeb's elbow and pointed behind them. Twenty – fifty – perhaps an hundred stormtroopers were alert, blasters aimed at the rebel crew.

If one of the crew had fired, they would have been smeared across the doors.

As it was….

 _We're AT-ST fuel now,_ Sabine thought grimly. She dropped her blaster and raised her hands. "Fine. You have us."

Zeb growled, fingers tightening as he assessed how many buckets he could maul before his last breath. Setting down her own pistol, Hera waved him down.

"Was this the plan, Minister Tua?"

"Actually… yes." Faintly Tua smiled, rubbing her hands. "You see, we have a plan of our own. The Emperor has taken things too far."

Hera startled. "The _Emperor?_ "

"That's right." One of the commanders stepped forward and pulled off his helmet. "Captain Stalin of the Lothal corp. We've decided to start our own rebellion."

"You're rebelling – _you're_ rebelling?" Sabine exclaimed, flabbergasted. "You tanked me in that stupid medcenter! I recognize your uniform!"

Stalin winced empathetically. "You think you were the only one affected by the Lothal weapon?"

"The bioweapon's effects have threatened half of Lothal's population." Another stormtrooper removed his helm. "Lieutenant Leonis. My son was an informant for the rebel alliance. He was arrested and locked away after they determined he was 'Force sensitive'." Leonis face was chiseled. "The Emperor has taken both of my children from me. I owe him nothing."

"Most of us have lost family in the Force segregations." A female trooper stepped forward, brown hair tumbling from her helmet. "We were assigned to Kessel so that we wouldn't interfere."

"We fight for the same cause," Stalin said calmly. "Will you help us overthrow the Emperor?"

"It isn't a trap," Tua said before Zeb could growl. "We risked our lives to capture this base. I wasn't sure if I could trust you before; that's why I offered to find another route."

"You asked for sanctuary from the Empire and all the while you had a blasted army?" Zeb argued.

"I needed transport off the planet. Whole systems are watching Lothal." Tua's eyes gleamed. "Your message of hope from long ago? We remember."

More troopers lowered their blasters and removed their helms. Awed, Sabine looked from one anxious face to another. What she had once felt in the Imperial Academy – the loss, the shame, the fear for her life and her family…

She was not alone.

Suspiciously Hera retrieved her pistol and slid it into its holster, fingers brushing the guard. "Our leader is held captive here. We need to find him."

It was a test; a fulfillment of two objectives. Kanan would be rescued, and the stormtroopers would prove their allegiance.

Swiftly Leonis nodded. "I guarded the ship he was transported in. I can tell you where Kallus took him."

Hera breathed jaggedly in relief and added, "There's a boy as well. Not older than sixteen. He's from –"

"Short, blue hair, dark complexion?" Leonis' eyes lanced furiously. "Rumor sprang that he'd killed you all. He's Darth Vader's new apprentice."

Hera's fingers clenched bloodlessly. "We need him back," she said tightly. "He was one of ours. Kanan will know what to do with him."

"Suit yourself," Commander Stalin said. "I'll give the order to capture him alive."

Dizzy with relief, Sabine sidled back against Zeb's arm. _This isn't possible. The rebellion – Vader – could it be over in one day?_

No. Not in a galaxy wrenched under the Emperor's hand.

This was only the beginning.

* * *

"Kanan!" Yellow eyes lightened with delight as Ezra – no, _Casus_ , and Kanan's throat swelled in certainty – knelt beside him, a twist of the Force removing the shackles from Kanan's arms and legs. "Kanan, it's all right. I have a transport prepared already. There's a medical ward and enough supplies to last for years. You can hide out on – "

"Why?" Kanan's voice husked and he felt old, so old, his ardency wasted in a futile quest.

Ez – Casus stuttered. "Kanan, I had to. Vader would have killed you all."

" _Why?"_ Kanan beseeched. Kallus was right. His padawan – the hope and resolution that had vitalized the crew – the voice that had strengthened him when Tarkin destroyed the communications tower – the child he had sacrificed his life to save ….

Ezra was gone.

His padawan… _Ezra_ …

Kanan wondered if he had died long ago, and his master had been too blind to recognize the signs.

"K-Kanan…." Stuttering a breath, Casus pulled Kanan upright, gentle despite the black cowl. "I'm sorry. I didn't have a choice."

 _You had a choice. You could have forgotten me. You could have trained the next generation of Jedi._

Kanan didn't have the strength to admonish him. Futility had seemed to be just a word. Now he understood. The Empire was indomitable. The Jedi were a dying race.

He had failed Billapa.

"Kanan!" Casus shook him tentatively, and then swore. "Don't fade on me, Kanan. You've never given up on anything. I can't lose you now!"

"Why?" It was the only word Kanan could choke. The sum of desolation.

 _Hera. Zeb. Sabine. Chopper._

He closed his eyes and saw the fire take them all.

"Why did you kill them?" He was too exhausted for anger, but wretchedness laced his tone. "They trusted you!"

Casus' eyes dilated, then sharpened in understanding. "No! No, Kanan – Kanan, listen to me. Hera and the crew are safe. I've already arranged for a transport to take them to Tatooine. No one will find you there."

 _Safe._ Shuddering heaves gripped Kanan and crumpled, coughing specks of blood as he tried to regain his breath. _Alive!_

"Ezra….." he could barely lisp the name. _Gone. My kid._ Holochess games after a nightmare. Stupid recordings from when the kid was on sleeping meds. Hot chocolate and mopey mooka moments. Crystal blue eyes flared with courage. Compassion and generosity learned after a lifetime of surviving on his own. _Ezra!_

The emptiness was not from the Force void.

He had lost his son.

"Kanan, I did it for you!" Casus' voice broke and he clutched Kanan tightly. "I couldn't let you and Hera die."

"It was enough for me that you _survived_ ," Kanan stressed hoarsely. "You were my legacy! Why does Vader matter so much to you?"

"He doesn't!" Casus denounced. "He doesn't! I didn't – I'm sorry, Kanan!"

It was never enough. Not for Master Yoda. Not for Obi-wan.

 _Is this how he felt when Anakin betrayed the Jedi?_ Kanan wondered with a sinking heart.

Padawan. Son. Brother.

"Why?" Kanan whispered.

"Because he is his father's son."

Casus gasped and his hand shook as Darth Vader's malevolence filled the room. Subtly Casus' hands worked the Force collar around Kanan's neck, trying to remove it.

Kanan resigned himself.

"You have deceived yourself into believing that he can become a Jedi," Darth Vader said pitilessly. "Your labor was ineffectual from the beginning. There is only one true path to power."

"Enough, Vader." Casus' voice wavered despite his cunning smile. Kanan recognized the tremor of fear in his hands as the Force collar was released. "I said I wanted a live witness. If this scum isn't taken to the medcenter, I'm going to be hard pressed to find another mouthpiece."

He sounded so sure of himself. Only Kanan sensed the disheartened resignation, and for a breath of time he understood.

Ruthlessly Darth Vader toed Kallus' corpse. "There is no need for witnesses, Darth Casus. Your training is nearly complete."

The caped shadow stood over them both. Darth Vader's lightsaber hovered by Casus' neck. Warning. "Relinquish yourself to the dark side. Release your former master to the Force, and rise to stand by the Emperor."

Casus' eyes shuttered, shaded by his cowl. His eyes remained on the saber at his shoulder as his hand moved to his belt. Closing his eyes, Kanan marginally tilted his neck.

Even now, against all sensible reason, he was prepared to die. For his padawan. For Ezra. For the Jedi he was meant to be.

 _Finish it, kid,_ Kanan silently ordered, feeling the Force gather around him one last time. _Do what it takes to survive._

 _Home,_ the Force whispered. Kanan was ready.

An apprentice's hand closed around his lightsaber.

Blue ignited.


	17. Epical

**Midnight Luna** … wielder of two purple lightsabers… Before you reviewed the second chapter of Visions, I wrote this chapter. 0_o

STOP PREDICTING MY PLOT!

Go sign up with Kallus. The Empire needs your information.

* * *

Celadon spiraled in twin arcs behind a Sith lord. Ezra gasped, barely shoving himself and Kanan to the floor as crimson swerved to meet the charge. Darth Vader was already prepared.

One outstretched glove, and Ahsoka slammed into the right wall. She curled into the Force blast, bracing her feet against the durasteel and springing back to meet Darth Vader's thrust. Scarlet flickered above one blue blade as the other streaked towards Vader's helmet.

"Look out!" Ezra shouted, Force-tethering Vader's hand as the red blade twisted beneath Ahsoka's feint.

Darth Vader looked over his shoulder in disgust. At the padawan who refused to choose a side. At the worm of a Jedi slumped beside him.

 _Coward._ The word slithered into Ezra's mind.

 _The one who is alone._

He had done this. He had destroyed the rebels; ostracized himself from the only family he had left. He had –

 _No!_ Blue glazed over Sith eyes as the red lightsaber shifted in Ezra's grip. _I am not unredeemable! I am not a monster!_

 _Not yet…._ the slither of the dark side warned.

Gritting his teeth, Ezra pried the red crystal out of his lightsaber. _This ends here._

The war. The insecurity. The anticipation of failure.

 _I am a Jedi._

Indigo flooded gold, and relief clinched in Kanan's eyes.

"Ezra," he croaked, grabbing his padawan's wrist as blue and crimson whirled before them. Smiling crookedly, Kanan nodded. "I trust you."

Dismay crashed into euphoria and Ezra smiled faintly. The war was over, and he was exhausted. "I won't fail you, Kanan."

He looked to Ahsoka, whose valor and courage outweighed the surety that she would be slain. A beacon of light, plunging into the darkness without fear. Fighting for the truth.

Against her example, Ezra was ashamed of himself. He had wavered for too long.

The blue kyber crystal from Lothal's temple fit his lightsaber perfectly. Fyrnock claws sprang free of Ezra's mind. The Force surged over the lingering infection, leaving scars that would remind and not persuade. Certainty abolished the rest.

Firmly Ezra gripped his lightsaber, and the blade illuminated his face.

 _There is no death. There is the Force._

He was not afraid.

Darth Vader sensed the difference. When Ezra charged, he was waiting.

* * *

"Let's move! Go, go, go!" Briskly Hera waved the stormtroopers through the hall. The pandemonium of smoke and enemy fire had forced the Kessel officers to flee the building. Already Maketh Tua was scrambling communication lines, dismantling security, and rallying the Kessel stormtroopers to join their defenses. Slaves poured from the abandoned mines, some choosing to fight if only to relish the freedom of rebellion one last time.

"Hera, halls one-fifty-two through one-fifty-six are clear!" Sabine barked. She slid against the wall, firing with two blaster pistols she had retrieved from a fallen Imperial captain. Through the haze Hera could make out Zeb's broad shoulders as he picked off rogue troopers with a disrupter rifle.

"Spectres Four and Five with me!" Hera ordered into the com. "Chop, which corridor am I looking for?"

"One-fifty-three!" Leonis shouted as he barreled into the hall, armor smoking from a concussion blast. He wiped soot from his dark skin, coughing. "Kallus' personal office; it's just this way."

"Status?" Hera demanded.

"He hasn't replied to his intercom for the past hour," Leonis said. "Be cautious; we might have a nasty surprise there."

Anything from a rigged hallway to a Sith lord.

Or a murdered Jedi.

 _Not this time._ Blaster fire glared on the walls as Hera ran after Leonis. _This time, we leave together._

The Ghost crew had been separated for the last time.

* * *

In a vision within the dark hull of the Ghost, curdled with remnants of a Sith holocron, Ezra had seen himself on the bridge of an Imperial space station. The Inquisitor to Emperor Vader. Scourge of the rebellion.

The key to the Empire's demise.

For months afterwards, the dark side had tantalized Ezra with the vision. The Force was weak and Kanan could only train him so far. Jedi were so easily crushed.

The only sure means to defeat the Empire was to corrupt it from the inside.

And for a dreadful number of days, Ezra had been convinced this was true. He had surrendered to Vader, risked his crew, denounced everything he had survived for, all to infiltrate the heart of the Empire and demolish it once and for all.

He was so wrong.

As Ahsoka's lightsabers spurred behind Vader, Ezra raised his hands in a clumsy over-pass. His techniques were clumsy and inept – nothing like the Fulcrum's grace or Darth Vader's heavy, certain blows. The dark side battered him just as Ahsoka's light eased the pain. Warmth and Cold battled for dominance, and Ezra refused to be the prize.

"You were a failure from the start," Darth Vader mocked as he kicked Ezra towards Kanan. Curled his wrist to twist one of the sabers from Ahsoka's hand. Raised his hand to choke her. "You were my _son_. You were born for greatness, and you chose disgrace."

Ferally Ezra grinned. "Guess I take after my mother."

Hatred slammed him into Kanan's legs as Darth Vader dropped Ahsoka, concentrating on his insurgent apprentice. Raising himself with a groan, Kanan cushioned the blow in a weak Force-shield. The purity of the Force flooded Ezra's senses and he rose to guard his master.

Light. Truth and knowledge and integrity, in a galaxy where freedom was dictated by just leaders.

Hope. A republic born anew, governed by those who were devoted to the Force.

Life. The sense of every Jedi who had died in the Force, bringing courage and renewal where the dark side laid waste.

As cruel deception trickled from Darth Vader and he spun his lightsaber as though to sever Kanan's hand, Ezra already _knew_.

The red lightsaber dropped and Ezra lunged, abandoning Kanan and throwing himself before the Fulcrum.

Darth Vader's panic flooded his senses.

Kanan bellowed, enfolding Ezra in the Force, trying to shield him from the inevitable.

Then the _smell_ hit as flesh singed, and Ezra swallowed fire.


	18. Her Son

It was always her son. Her son who leapt into a lava pit to save himself from the dark side. Her son who mourned every night for his master. Her son whose compassion, kindness, and courage shamed Anakin Skywalker and what he had become.

For this reason, Darth Vader tried all the harder to break him. Ezra Skywalker was his weakness. A Sith had none.

He had bided his time; chipped away the boy's defenses until he was a raw, doubting child, searching for answers the Force did not have, craving the easy, ready power the dark side provided. He waited until Ezra was willing to risk the cruelest deceit in order to protect those he loved.

If the process had continued, Ezra would have battled his master on Mustafar's shores, and accepted the dark side as truth.

But Padme had redeemed her child, and it was her small chin that quivered in pain, and her compassion that melted in agony as Darth Vader pulled his lightsaber free.

Ezra curled into himself, arms pressed against the smoldering tunnel bored into his torso. Gasping. Sweat already soaking his hair. Eyes shuttering, reedy pants louder than Kanan's yells.

Anakin Skywalker had killed his Angel.

Her son lay before his feet.

Howling a scream, Ahsoka retrieved her lightsaber and Ezra's, flipping to swipe off Darth Vader's head. A backhand in the Force and she sprawled against the door, tangled in Agent Kallus' cold limbs.

Darth Vader saw only the whimpering form. Small and fearless. Thwarting the galaxy, one rebel cause at a time.

Padme's son.

Impaled on Darth Vader's lightsaber.

The Force shunted from Kanan's side of the room like a persistent fly as Darth Vader crouched beside his son. The Force thrummed softly under his fingertips. Ezra groaned, and Darth Vader slid him into a trance.

 _Rest. Heal._

This was not how the Empire was built to thrive. Compassion was a Jedi trait – unconditional love was the weakness of Anakin Skywalker.

A master held no love for his padawan.

Darth Vader rose, and Ezra snuffled, like a twitchy pup that refused to sleep. "K…n…?" he murmured.

"Ezra – Ezra, listen to me!" Kanan begged. Wrathful eyes bore into Vader as the Jedi crawled to his padawan. "He was only a boy! Now you have him! Are you content? Let him die in peace!"

Ragged emotion spurred from a rent heart, and Darth Vader realized that he had chased the wrong apprentice all along. Had he begun with Caleb Dume, corrupting the broken padawan until he was prepared to train Ezra as a Sith….

The Empire could have been invincible.

It was too late. In all ways, it was too late.

The light burned in Darth Vader's memory, with the touch of a soft hand; the memory of brown eyes that he would never hope to see.

Had Padme's son inherited all her traits, Anakin Skywalker might have been renewed.

But it was Darth Vader who shoved Kanan aside and stepped carefully over his son's prone body, departing the room in a hail of blaster fire and smoke.

Darth Sidious had been a fool to corrupt Obi-wan's padawan.

The apprentice had always been stronger.

* * *

"Ezra!" Kanan's voice ended in a croak as he lifted his padawan from the icy floor.

Cold.

The frost of the dark side numbed Kanan's hands and crystalized his breath. The floor chilled him through his pants, and the only warmth he sought was the feathery pulse in Ezra's wrist.

"Kid, come on! Open your eyes."

Kanan had never seen a lightsaber kill, but he knew the effects. Burnt flesh, cauterized organs, parts of the innards that had been soldered away. The Jedi at the Temple had fallen so easily – not because of an army of clones, but because their death had been mandated by the Keeper of Light.

The Chosen One.

Ahsoka stirred, and anger charred Kanan's compassion as he wondered if she understood Ezra's sacrifice. Lying helpless as his padawan fought, Kanan had sensed Darth Vader's reluctance. He would have spared his son. The killing stroke had been intended for the Fulcrum.

Ezra was worth more.

"Hhh?" Ahsoka murmured as she rose, bracing her head. Confused, she blinked sluggishly until her eyes settled on Ezra. Dismay sheared through disorientation and she struggled to her feet, lightsaber wavering in her right hand.

"Where is Darth Vader?"

"Gone," Kanan said hollowly.

"Gone?" Ahsoka's eyes narrowed as she crouched before Ezra, laying a hand over his temple. "You killed him?"

"No, _gone_ ," Kanan emphasized. "He walked out."

"What do you mean he _walked out_?" Ahsoka was already pulling out a comlink; a necessary procedure which Kanan had groggily neglected. "Fulcrum to CT-7; I need a medical team at my coordinates."

"He _left the room_ ," Kanan enunciated. His tongue felt thick and his head was spinning. Ahsoka glanced over and then forcefully prodded him to the floor.

"Lie down," she barked at Kanan's protest. Already she was yanking out a medpack, tearing a bacta tube open with her teeth. "You're malnourished and purple enough to resemble Orrelios. I'll tend to Ezra."

"He needs more than bacta." Kanan wriggled to one elbow and hissed when his cheek was shoved to the floor again.

"You're no Corellian sunblossom, yourself," Ahsoka said tartly. "I have a medical team on route. Lie still."

"Never was one to take orders," Kanan grunted, bracing both forearms beneath him.

Ahsoka sighed. "Fine, but don't tear an artery. You've got a concussion and I don't need you bleeding internally while I try to patch Ezra."

Carefully Kanan lowered himself to the floor again, wrapping his hand around Ezra's wrist. Flitting, anxious pulses tapped his fingers.

 _How long is it going to be this way?_ Darth Vader was still alive. The Empire would demand their capture with twice the fervency as before. _We can't keep running._

Kanan suspected he would never run again.

 _You'll have to take responsibility for both of us,_ he silently urged his padawan. _I can mind the ship, but we need a commander for the ground ops._

 _The rebellion needs you._

 _I need you._

Ezra murmured low, and Ahsoka immediately pressed a hand against his forehead, returning him to the healing trance. She glanced subtly at Kanan. "He may pull through surgery without permanent effects."

 _Or he may rely on a breathing mask and implanted organs._

Kanan denounced it. His padawan was an unpredictable Loth-cat, destined to skitter and prowl without the impedance of a mechanical body. Closing his eyes, Kanan sank into the thready, disjointed Force he had been denied for so long.

 _Stay with me, kid. Stay with me…_

* * *

 _And when blasterfire ceased in the outer corridors, and the sealed door was pried aside._

 _When Captain Rex saluted for his orders, and the medteam shoved their way inside._

 _Olive green and lekku sleek slid past the barking troopers. Kneeling in the mass without a cry._

 _Pulse was weak and warmth was scarce; she clasped their hands one last time._

 _Paint-speckled armor was shoved from the throng, mindless of her forsaken keen._

 _The warrior stooped to retrieve his bo-rifle, kicking aside the rigid Imperial king._

 _Roiling commotion, voices loud, they bore their fallen away._

 _Unbeknownst to all at hand,_

 _T'was the last Empire Day._

* * *

.

.

.

* * *

 **Ever reach** that point where you don't know how to properly summarize the aftermath of disaster? 0_o Herewith, my glorious exercise in amateur poetry.

 _ **Warning – COMICS SPOILER**_ _: For the record, after reading Kanan – The Last Padawan #6, I no longer feel guilty for battering Kanan more frequently than is strictly necessary for a Jedi. If he can get himself stabbed in the back in the comics, he can stand a few whumpings from Neocolai…._


	19. Balance

**I see I managed to thoroughly confuse everyone with the last two chapters. Sometimes mystery is good, sometimes it's too much. Here's a basic summary:**

Ahsoka charges Vader. Ezra realizes he's being an idiot and exchanges red for blue. Ezra fights Vader, Vader knows what he's doing and picks off his former padawan, then feints to make Ezra think he's going to kill Kanan. Ezra sees through his ploy and lunges to protect Ahsoka, winding up with a saber through his stomach instead. Darth Vader realizes his error _(after watching the Frozen parody "Do you want to kill some rebels", I know Darth Daddy has one live vein in that mechanical heart)_ and he walks out. Kanan isn't happy. Enter the Ghost crew at the end, who swoop up their fallen in the poem ditty, and call victory for the Kessel battle. Last "Empire Day" - this battle takes place on Empire Day, and is a foretelling of the upcoming conclusion.

 **This part is fast paced because A) I had to complete it before losing my Star Wars: Rebels urge (which is still AWL), and B) Kanan still has a major part to play ahead.**

 **Still confused? Message me and I'll try to summarize it in better detail. ;)**

* * *

"Love, you should be resting." Hugging Kanan gently from behind, Hera kissed his temple and sighed. "He's strong enough. He won't leave us now."

Kanan made no reply, one hand pressed against the glass tank, the other loosely clenched in a sling. Caged in a wheelchair, his eyes were dull with bewilderment. Two months. So much had been lost.

Ezra; out of reach, slowly fading in a bacta tank. The Ghost; home and sanctuary for years, crumpled in a shipyard until Hera could assess how much of the metal hunk could be salvaged. Courage, hope, fortitude, resolve...

Kanan had nothing left.

The Inquisitor had hunted them, introducing them to fear beyond Order 66. Kallus had twisted them, hazing the boundaries of justice and integrity.

During all of this, Kanan had held strong. He was their Fearless Leader. Shaded by his boldness, Hera had never doubted her fulfillment in the rebellion.

But Darth Vader had gripped Kanan's courage like a cloak of light and torn it from him. Everything – Ezra, their bond, Kanan's fighting grace, the Force itself – what did he leave a wandering Jedi?

 _Nothing._

Hera nestled her cheek on Kanan's head, carding her fingers slowly through his hair. _Force help me, I've lost them both._

Her Jedi.

Her future.

Wrenched from her hands.

Her boys were home, and still she felt like she had lost the war.

She should have known; one Twi'lek couldn't stand against the whole Empire.

* * *

 _He heard their voices dimly, like radio static through a duracrete wall. Blurred tones and words that held no meaning. Once he felt Kanan's presence reaching through as though to tug on his hand. He thought he heard Sabine yelling – why was she angry?_

 _All of this was an insignificant burble, compared to the flow around him._

 _The Force._

 _It was more than a wind beckoning objects to his hand. It was more than an instinct nudging his lightsaber._

 _All this time Kanan had tried to tell him, and finally he understood._

 _The Force was alive._

 _The darkness wasn't unwholesome or comforting; it was just_ _ **there.**_ _The softness within the dark… what he couldn't see, couldn't understand._

 _It spoke and breathed and moved._

 _Lived through him. In him. Pulsing every heartbeat and filling every inhale. The Force wasn't essential to life – it meant existence!_

 _And finally he understood._

 _There was no dark or light. The Force could not be corrupted. No one could impede it._

 _Jedi were weak – created in the Force, harnessing its power, and finally returning to their genesis. They died and the Force remained._

 _But they lived on like the stars._

 _The voices Ezra had heard when he fell during the battle with the Inquisitor; the words in his mind during Mustafar – voices that were not Darth Vader's or Kanan's – they caressed him, holding him in the darkness, beckoning him to choose._

 _To shelter or to kill. That was the path of the Jedi._

 _The Force was compassion; wholeness; giving; peace._

 _The Sith used it to bring war; death; cruelty; antagonism._

 _The Jedi fought this, and proved that without the darkness, the galaxy would never know the greatest anticipation._

 _Hope._

 _Without the dark, the light would never be illuminated. Without the light, the dark side would consume itself._

 _There could not be the dark without the light to prove it existed._

 _No one needed a candle if there was only light._

 _The balance demanded both._

 _And Ezra understood._

 _Light and dark warred within him. Kanan shunned the dark. Darth Vader despised the light. All the while, Ezra had tried to push back one or the other, and failed._

 _But the Force was neither dark nor light._

 _All the while, Ezra had been fighting against himself._

 _His own temper. His fervor. His optimism. His impatience. His suspicious nature. His confidence. His self-reliance. He had been trying to change himself in order to harness the Force._

 _The Force was already there. It didn't matter whether or not Ezra could feel it. It didn't matter whether he was strong or weak. It didn't matter if he was as good as a Jedi or as tyrannical as his father._

 _The Force was always there._

 _Reaching into it, feeling its purity for the first time, Ezra understood._

 _He no longer had reason to be afraid._

 _He was a Jedi._

 _And he was never alone._

 _The healing current rippled around him, and he relaxed into it, letting the drone of Kanan's worry fade._

 _When the Force was ready, he would wake. Kanan could wait a little longer._

* * *

When Hera finally trudged away, listless and heartsick, Kanan stirred. His eyes burned, his chest felt weighted and his limbs were number than the aftershocks of the Inquisitor's torture, but his mind was sharper than ever before. Surreptitiously Kanan glanced around the room, and then braced his fingers against the glass one last time.

"Hold on, Ezra," he whispered, burdening his words with the Force. "Don't give up."

Slowly, gasping between his clamped jaw, Kanan rose from the wheelchair and leaned against the glass. He waited until the grey swamp crept from his vision and his legs granted him support. Breathing deeply, he strained for Ezra's lightsaber and clipped it to his own belt.

"I'm going to end this."


	20. Awake

"Blasted wires never work like they're – Karabast!" Zeb snarled as Chopper slammed into his leg, circuits reeking with frizzed energy. "What do you want now? This had better mean that the Loth-rat's awake, or else – "

Frantic chittering was followed by a berserk waving of claws. Confused, Zeb set his welder aside. He didn't really need to repair that fissure panel anyways….

"Calm down, you whiny rustbucket," Zeb growled as he crouched to hear the droid better. "What's this about Kanan?"

More squalling. Chopper was shy of banging his dome on the wall. Zeb's ears flattened.

"He didn't….." Lunging to his feet, the Lasat shoved past the droid and bounded down the hall. He rammed his fist against the communication switch, ignoring the tired drag in Hera's voice.

"Zeb, it's nearly dawn Loth-time."

"It's an emergency, Hera," Zeb countered, while Chopper blathered in agreement.

Over the com, Hera groaned. "Is Sabine having a frudal relapse?"

"This isn't about the crisis teenager–"

"Is Ezra talking yet?"

"Hera, you need to –"

"Is Kanan in a bacta tank?"

"That's just it, Hera! He isn't –"

"Then shove him into one and let me sleep! I've been a ferrier of bad news for four days, Zeb. Give me six –"

"Kanan stole the transport!" Zeb bellowed into the com.

Silence.

"Wait…." Cloth rustled and bunk springs creaked as Hera's voice grew sharper. "Kanan did _what?"_

"He stole the Fulcrum's shuttle," Zeb snarled. "Chopper says he short-circuited all transmissions and tracking devices."

"He's half a corpse!" Hera shouted, objects clattering as she dressed. "What's gotten into his maniacal – "

"Hera." Zeb rubbed his fingers over his palm, voice treacherously low. "I think we both know where he's gone."

Softly Hera cursed. "Kanan, what have you done?"

* * *

Sweaty hands gripped the controls.

The rubber strip clamped between his teeth kept his mind from the pain.

The Force cleared his mind.

Willpower shunted back the warnings; the obstinate feeling that this was _wrong._

 _Focus,_ Kanan commanded himself. _There is only the Force._

The chill in his sternum was surely from the medications and shock. The buzzing sense of foreboding was only his tired mind inventing failure. The dryness in his mouth was anticipation.

He wasn't afraid of the dark side.

The Force _had_ to strengthen him for this final battle. He was doing this for the Light.

For Ezra. For Hera. For the Jedi who had been murdered.

Caleb Dume and Kanan Jarrus convalesced into one, and the Force flooded him, dispersing the pain. The cold became natural and Kanan relaxed, his mind sharper than before Master Billapa's training. Emboldened, he reached out in the Force, and the knife of Darth Vader's presence did not seem so threatening.

He couldn't feel the cold.

 _There is no death, only…._

Elimination.

* * *

The Force prickled, and unwillingly Ezra stirred. Apprehension scraped his mind. Grumbling, he pushed back the thread of awareness.

 _I'm not ready yet. I haven't learned everything._

The Force was open and streaming with knowledge; eons of wisdom that no Jedi Master could teach.

 _Just a little longer. Kanan can wait until –_

Now!

The Force bludgeoned Ezra like a clap to the ear and he tumbled into white lights, piercing voices and a thundering skull. The soft mumble of darkness was thrust aside and he reeled, straining as liquid burbled around him.

 _Wait – what's happening? Kanan? Where am I?_

Bacta – it had to be bacta! He'd tasted a bacta patch once, and the tang was worse than fermented jogan. Gurgling, Ezra swiveled his arms through the transparent liquid. Immediately his stomach panged and he twisted in half, clenching the fading wound.

 _This is going to be a problem at breakfast…._

 _Ezra!_ The Force plowed into him again and Ezra cringed, shaking his head.

 _What's going on?_ At last he could feel the Force around him, and now it was too much! _Ack! I'm injured, okay? I'm supposed to be healing!_

 _Ezra!_ He was slugged from behind and he ducked low, cradling his head.

 _Go to your master!_ the Force commanded.

Freezing, Ezra swished his arms aimlessly and turned his head to listen.

 _Shadow. Shadow. Star. Kanan. Go. Prevent. Star. Ezra. Go. Vader. Light. Go. Ezra._

 _EZRA!_

The Force shot through him and blue eyes flung wide. Gasping, Ezra pounded his hands against the glass and shouted through the breather. _Let me out of here!_

Amber eyes shot up, and Ezra was suddenly aware that he had little cover behind the translucent bacta. He closed his eyes feverishly and hoped Sabine would think he had fainted.


	21. Escape

"I can't believe it," Hera growled, pecking the Fulcrum's spacecraft coordinates into the database. "He was in a _wheelchair_! How did he even make it to a transport? How could he have escaped unnoticed?"

"Uh, he is a Jedi, Hera," Zeb reminded, scratching the fur behind one ear. The scowl he received was unfair.

"I _know_ he's a Jedi," Hera snapped.

"Yeah, yeah, you worked with him for years before the kid got involved." Rolling his eyes, Zeb flicked imaginary rust from his bo-rifle. That slime-worm had kept the weapon immaculately clean and well-polished, but Zeb knew Kallus had impaired it somehow. Just the thought of those bloody, murderous hands clutching –

"Zeb, will you _help_ me or will you just – " Clenching her fists on the consol, Hera muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a Huttese oath. "Karabast, what am I going to do with him, Zeb? First Ezra, now Kanan's off to get himself killed."

"Runs in the family," Zeb snarked darkly. He sobered when luminous green eyes looked up at him. Karabast, Hera looked like a kid whose stuffed ewok had been chewed by mynocks. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Zeb assured, "Kanan's probably looking for a new rendezvous planet. Hehe, any moment Sabine will flit down the hall and tell us the kid's been contacting him."

Hera opened her mouth to scold his flippancy, but the pattering of footsteps arrested her words. Swirling around, Hera watched with budding anxiety as Sabine trotted up to the consol. Sheepishly the Mandalorian swept her bangs aside and smiled.

"Well, he's awake."

"Ezra?" Hera said with astonishment.

"Mm-hm." Sabine looked unusually pleased with herself. "His face was a pre-etty interesting shade of red, but his vitals are strong. Medics say he should be walking in a week."

"You _left_ him there?" Hera exclaimed.

Sabine shrugged. "He was in a bacta tank. I'm not voyeuristic." Pink colored her cheeks and she glanced shiftily away.

"You left him _awake_ and _unattended_ with only a medical droid for a guard," Hera asserted.

"Well – he's half lucid," Sabine said, brow furrowed in confusion. "I said 'hi' to let him know I was there, but it's not like he can go anywhere."

"Oh, he can." Hera whipped around, lekku slapping Zeb's jaw. "Chopper, look for a medcenter breach. Zeb, tie that kid down before he runs after Kanan. Sabine, tell the Fulcrum we have a missing Jedi.

"Eh, what makes you think the kid would skedaddle?" Zeb spoke up. "Like Sabine said, he won't walk for a week."

Exasperatedly Hera sighed. "Does anyone remember Kessel?"

Her mottled crew groaned.

* * *

It wasn't easy, pounding on glass and waiting for a buckethead to notice him. Thankfully, Leonis was shrewder than most. He chuckled at Ezra's furious expression and leaned against the glass.

"Sorry, but I'm not a medical droid. I'm not supposed to let you out of there."

Furiously Ezra waved down, cursing the breathing mask.

"Easy, Jedi. You're captured aboard a rebel vessel, by your own crew. The war is over as far as we're concerned."

Intrigued, Ezra tilted his head.

"Didn't you hear?" Leonis smiled wearily. "Lothal rebelled against the Empire. That poison affected our troopers as well, and we learned that the Empire used an illicit weapon against the planet. Too many citizens were hospitalized. The people rioted, and when Captain Stalin alerted the stormtrooper legions, many of them joined their efforts. Capital City is now under Lothal control."

 _How? How? How?_ Ezra tried to ask, pressing his hands against the glass.

Leonis shrugged. "We left a lieutenant in charge. It's peaceful work; he'll appreciate it, and he won't barrage the natives. He'll consider it a fair change from 'fresher duty, I'm sure."

Urgently Ezra rapped his knuckles on the glass. _I need to get out of here!_

"Zare is recovering significantly," Leonis said proudly. "He asked me to send you a message; says he admires your stealth tactics and your sabotage. I told him you were a Jedi and he nearly coughed out a lung."

Snorting bubbles, Ezra shook his head.

"He wants to meet your crew after the chaos settles," Leonis continued. Wistfully he added, "Maybe your Togruta general can help us find Dhara."

Eagerly Ezra tried to spell on the glass, 'K-A-N-N-'

"You need to … use the 'fresher," Leonis guessed, one eyebrow raised dubiously.

 _Yeah, sure!_ Anything that would get him out of this tanker. Nodding ferociously, Ezra crossed his eyes as though pained. Leonis awkwardly cleared his throat.

"I'm… um… not exactly sure how that works. I'm not a medical droid."

Quickly Ezra walked two fingers across the back of his hand, and then chopped his right hand outwards.

"You think you can walk that far?" Leonis said uncertainly.

Another jerky nod from Ezra, and the stormtrooper sighed. "I should wait for the droid…."

In a bacta tank it was easy to squirm. Cringing, Leonis reached for the controls.

"Okay, but as soon as you're finished you need to rest. I'll check with the medics on how long you can stay out of the tank."

 _Yes, yes!_ Raised from the slimy fluid, Ezra wanted to crow in triumph. _Don't lose it now, Kanan. Hold onto the Force._

A ventilation hatch escape, one snitched uniform, and hundreds of pain-laden, victorious strides later, and he was bundled into a graffitied transport, sliding his hands around controls he had only seen Hera master.

 _There's no turning back._

Closing his eyes, Ezra opened his mind to the Force, and felt the sliding cold of Darth Vader. He met it unflinchingly, absorbing the surprise and suspicion from the other side. Smiling thinly, Ezra eased the transport into hyperspace.

It seemed ironic that the pilot's uniform he had chosen was black.

He had never felt more like a Jedi.


	22. Retrieval

**To answer Midnight Luna's question** : Stormtrooper Leonis is Zare's father - so indeed they have the same name, but I will refer to Zare by first name in this story.

* * *

Like his vision, it was a Star that was not a star.

"The Death Star," Kanan murmured, foreboding cramping the back of his neck. His shoulder was numb from raw nerves, and his leg felt as clumsy as a dewback with clogged sinuses. Common sense and preservation warned him to bank off now, before he was shoved into another Imperial cell.

Caleb Dume wanted justice. The spirits of the dead cried out with a boy numbed by pain, forsaken in the ashes of his master's lightsaber. No, Jarrus would put them all to rest.

He would end the Sith.

Ice numbed his wounds and soldered his chest. Breathing deeply, Kanan straightened and directed the cruiser forward. Darth Vader was waiting for him. He was not afraid.

Ever since his vision, Kanan had known that – to be free – Ezra would have to finish his training alone.

* * *

"Ezra Bridger, get back on this ship _right now!_ "

Ezra cringed as Hera's voice amplified in the transport's com. "Hera, I'm fine! It's just a twinge, honestly. Kanan – "

"When I find you, you're dead, you hear me?" Zeb railed next.

"I know where Kanan is," Ezra insisted. The Star in his vision; the heart of the Empire. "You need to tell the Fulcrum that the Emperor is building a weaponized starbase."

"Ezra Bridger, if you aren't locked into the ship's tractor beam within five minutes, you are grounded for the rest of your training!"

Rubbing his ear, Ezra edged to the right of the seat and adjusted the com's volume until Hera's shouting was less of a barrage.

"So help me, I will tell Kanan to confiscate your lightsaber!" Hera threatened.

"Yeah, and Chopper and I will exchange it for a mauve crystal," Sabine piped in.

"We can't give him a red one," Zeb muttered. "What're you trying to do, create a miniature Vader?"

"It's pink!" Sabine hissed back.

"Purple," Hera intoned. "Ezra, are you listening to me?"

"Yes, _Mom_ ," Ezra snarked, rolling his eyes. "I'll be back as soon as I find Kanan."

Intensified bleeping and rattling in the com implied that Chopper was now involved. Ezra hummed softly and tried not to think about the trashy insults thrown his way.

"Chopper, we do not use that kind of language!" Hera said fiercely.

"I think it's kinda funny," Zeb offered.

"Ezra, what if something happens out there?" Sabine said above the din. "We can't lose both of you again. Come back."

' _Come back to us – to me!'_ Ezra swallowed, remembering the vision of an older Sabine. Throat aching, he locked on the controls. "Sorry, Sabine," he said roughly. "I'm not going back without Kanan."

"Why, you little – "

Zeb's threat was cut off as Ezra flicked the communications sequence. The silence pounded his ears.

Sighing, Ezra rested his head in his hands. "What am I doing?"

 _Protecting,_ the Force answered.

Somewhere out there, Kanan was lost. Struggling on his own.

Raising his head, Ezra breathed out slowly and looked ahead. Darth Vader was waiting. He would battle the Sith for the last time.

His reflection dimly tinted the cockpit transparisteel. Had Ezra noticed himself, he would have seen cobalt overwash the last tints of gold.


	23. The Power of the Dark Side

Kanan did not fight the Death Star's tractor beam. When the stormtroopers dragged him out of the Fulcrum's transport, he offered no resistance. He knew where they would take him.

"In seeking to ransom your apprentice, you have delivered yourself to me." Darth Vader sheathed his lightsaber as Kanan was dragged into the throne room. With a wave of the Force he dismissed the guards, striding past a crumpled, black cloaked form.

Gorge rose in Kanan's throat. "You killed the Emperor."

Impassively Darth Vader looked at the lined face; the frozen, hateful expression; the anguished scream testifying the Emperor's last moments. "It was necessary."

"I didn't come here to barter with you," Kanan hissed, yanking on his bound hands. His leg crumpled with a spasm and he lunged into the cold, relishing the crisp, deviant focus. The Force whispered and he couldn't understand it. All that mattered was the power in his hands.

He could crush Vader.

"Do not think your petty defiance can usurp me," Darth Vader said, as though sensing Kanan's thoughts. A wave of his hand and the stun cuffs clattered onto the floor. "I expected more out of your apprentice."

"Leave Ezra out of this," Kanan snarled. He rubbed his wrists, feeling Ezra's lightsaber press on the inside of his boot. Bucketheads were stupid; any Imperialist should know that Lothal Jedi concealed their weapons.

Darth Vader observed Kanan contemplatively. "Indeed, you are more determined than your padawan."

Grinning ferally, Kanan spread his hand beside his leg. "Enough for this."

The lightsaber smacked into his palm and he leapt, the tip of his boot grazing Vader's shoulder. One twitch down; one swivel of his palm. The Force roiled and Kanan felt it everywhere. The cold, the hate, the antipathy: it gripped the room, sheeting Darth Vader in visions of flaming ice. Exultantly Kanan slashed the blue saber down, the tip grazing Darth Vader's helmet –

The wall crumpled underneath him an instant later, and the smell of burning flesh warned him that something was seriously wrong. Confused, Kanan raised himself to one elbow.

Immediately his focus dimmed and pain recoiled down his arm. Screaming, Kanan writhed back and kicked at the wall, clutching his right arm to himself.

What remained of it.

Through fogged eyes, he saw his hand lying across the room.

 _No, no, no, no, no!_

Hoarsely Kanan gasped, agony lashing moisture from his eyes and nose. Grey clouded his vision and he swallowed bile, blood dribbling from his bitten tongue. Steeled black boots approached as he rocked, keening.

The glowing tip of a red lightsaber hovered above his neck. "You have failed."

Failed. Failed everyone. _Hera._ Ezra. His crew. He was a fool.

"The dark side is powerful in you." Admiration heightened Vader's tone. "I can teach you to harness your power and _protect_ those you left behind."

Kanan wheezed in reply. He edged away, biting his lip until fresh blood streaked his chin. _Hera, Hera, I'm so sorry!_

"It is your destiny, Caleb Dume."

With the spark of his name, clarity returned. Gasping, Kanan stared at the polished floor - at the golden, haunted eyes reflecting from his face. _Force help me… what have I done?_

He snapped those traitorous eyes shut and his mind riveted on Master Billapa; her training; her kindness; her aspiration for a boy who only knew how to be a Jedi.

Kanan Jarrus had abandoned the Force.

All this time, Caleb Dume had looked behind, and Kanan had scorned him as a coward.

But Caleb wasn't _running_. For sixteen years he had fought, maintaining the code that Kanan had forgotten.

He was a child; a dreamer; a symbol of hope.

And Kanan had shunted him away.

Opening his eyes, Kanan knew. By ignoring his past, he had forgotten himself.

He was born of the Force.

Raising his eyes, blue-green and strong once more, Kanan smiled. "Then kill me. I will never betray the Jedi."

A child's hand reached from the prison of his mind, and Kanan Jarrus shattered the bars. Caleb Dume flickered briefly before the two spirits collided, and Kanan welcomed them both in a swell of the Force. For an instant he heard Master Billapa's voice.

Then the blood of Darth Vader's blade rushed towards him.


	24. Autonomy

**A.N.** _I'm pretty stunned at how many people praised the last chapter. In the author's viewpoint, it was anticlimactic - the ultimate clash between Kanan and Vader was only 700 words long. I intentionally made the fight brief, however._

 _After studying Kanan and Ezra vs. Darth Vader in the "anticipated showdown" of Season 2, I figured that Vader was just toying with the rebels and letting them go for ... whatever reason. Why else wouldn't he slice and dice them like the Jedi in the Temple? I mean, Ezra was practically begging to be impaled, and Kanan left himself open for half a dozen kill strikes. He should have lost an arm (or his head) instead of suffering a small graze._ _So for those who noticed, the fight between Kanan and Darth Vader last chapter was intentionally shortened. Darth Vader isn't toying with his prey this time. He's probably got better things to do... a galaxy to throw into turmoil, a daughter to threaten, Ewoks to destroy, feed his pet mouse droid..._

* * *

 _With that speculation, on to the next chapter!_

* * *

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

"Dad, stop!"

Crimson halted inches shy of Kanan's nose. Gasping threadily, Kanan looked to the source of disturbance. "Ezra, no!"

Darth Vader turned, perturb coiling his posture like the swathes of his dark cape. His lightsaber was lowered unnoticed as he gazed at the boy clad in black, whose hands were outstretched and whose blue eyes glowed with desperation.

"Don't kill him," Ezra implored softly. Bravely he stepped forward, his hands falling to his sides. "He's not a threat to you."

"His fate is not yours to decide," Darth Vader intoned, slowly turning back to the fallen Jedi.

Ezra barked a shout, confidence bolstering his stride. "You think killing him will influence me, but you're wrong. I've already made my decision."

Darth Vader's lightsaber wavered, and Kanan sensed _hurt_. "I understand you have forsaken yourself for the path of the Jedi."

"Like my father," Ezra said strongly. "Like Anakin Skywalker. I know who I am."

Broad shoulders inclined and for an instant mechanical breathing paused. "And who is this Jedi you proclaim to be?"

Ezra stopped mere feet away from Darth Vader. Indigo shone clear and fervent. "Do you still believe I'm Padme's son?"

Surprise recoiled from Vader and he turned fully, staring at the boy who stood two feet shorter than himself. Assessing. Prodding. Questioning. Asserting.

"Dad?" Ezra said hesitantly.

There was no catch; no offer of allegiance in exchange for a life. A son had called for his father.

The crimson blade sheathed.

Moisture sprang to Ezra's eyes, and Kanan's heart tore as the boy lunged into Darth Vader's arms. Quivers of _belonging_ shook the thin shoulders, and the father in Kanan cried out with loss. His boy had found his true parent. When Darth Vader's arms folded around Ezra, Kanan looked away. He was the one who had protected Ezra; mentored him; trained him. He was the one who had given him a future and a family.

Yet it was Darth Vader who had earned the right as father.

Kanan's heart twisted inside, and Caleb Dume remembered the loss of his master. This time, Jarrus did not scold.

Grief was part of the Force.

Mercifully soon, Ezra stepped back and brushed his eyes dry, mortified by the flurry of emotion. Darth Vader's hand lingered on his shoulder. The Sith lord breathed in … paused… and abruptly squeezed Ezra's shoulder and strode past him.

"Wait …." Lost, Ezra looked after him. "Dad, wait –"

"Leave the Death Star." Darth Vader swiveled in the entrance, and there was no malice in his stance. _Fondness_ washed over Ezra and he breathed in, accepting it. "Return to your Rebel crew. You have one hour to vacate the Death Star."

A flurry of black cloak, and he was gone. Ezra exhaled, loss crippling his senses.

Wearily Kanan raised his head. He had lost. Vader had won.

But Ezra was still a Jedi.

"Kid," Kanan said faintly.

Snapping out of a daze, Ezra ran to Kanan's side. "What happened? Did he hurt you?" His eyes settled on Kanan's cradled arm, and iciness clipped his eyes for a moment. Swearing in fluent Lasan (and Kanan swore to cram a bar of soap in Zeb's mouth for teaching his padawan), Ezra scrambled to retrieve the lopped hand. Gingerly he emptied his pack and dropped it inside. Green-faced, he ran back to Kanan.

"We need to leave _now_." Wincing sympathetically Ezra helped Kanan stand. "This is going to hurt – a lot. But I think we can find a transport without any trouble."

"What – makes – you think –" Kanan fought back a wave of nausea, hollering when his leg dragged.

"Because I know Vader." Tight-lipped, Ezra dragged his master to the entrance. "He'll leave us an unguarded transport."

"You … think that…." Kanan hacked and croaked, "It was all a trick?"

Devastation lanced through Ezra's eyes as he froze. "I wasn't…. Kanan," he asked in a softer voice, "Are you angry with me?"

 _Angry?_ Defeat softened Kanan's tone. "You meant it."

"He's… I think….." Ezra looked away. "I believe it, Kanan. I want – I want a Dad. Not that …. You were everything I needed, Kanan, and I couldn't imagine Darth Vader raising me, but … he's my actual father. How could I not want to know him?"

It hurt. He understood, but the ache remained. Ezra had replaced the Bridgers, and he had replaced Kanan.

Kanan nodded.

"Where's the transport?"

"Lower levels," Ezra said in a gust. "I saw them in my vision." He glanced at the wall chrono and blanched. "Forty-nine minutes. We need to be out of hyperspace by then. This entire station is going to blow."

* * *

"So help me, that kid is going to be locked in his room with nothing but nutrient paste for a week!" Hera muttered as she revved the rickety, sluggish cruiser. She scratched the crusted grit on the console, longing for the sleek controls of the Ghost. "They'd better get her fixed."

Oh, sure the former Imperial base on Lothal had promised to return the rebels' vessel in top form. Once a cure had been developed for frudal allergies and half the population was vaccinated, everyone wanted to thwart the Empire. That still didn't give Hera a descent transport to retrieve two nerf-headed womp rats.

"Kanan, when this is over I'm dragging you to the Fulcrum," Hera swore. Ahsoka was a general; she could make it happen. One little ceremony, and Kanan would think twice before gallivanting across the galaxy alone.

"—Hera?- Hera, do you read me?"

The pilot's heart stopped and she lashed for the com. "Ezra, I read you. Where are you?"

"Imperial shuttle," Ezra said rapidly. "I need a hyperspace jump."

"Is Kanan with you?" She'd throttle him _after_ he was bullied back to Lothal.

"We need a medic, Hera." Ezra's voice sounded somber and far too old. "I'm keeping him alive."

"That troll-headed idiot," Hera hissed. "What are your coordinates?" She was already analyzing the star charts.

"Twelve parsecs from Alderaan," Ezra said. "Can you hurry? This shuttle's hyperdrive is busted and I really don't want to die."

"Ezra, where _are_ – "

Imploding fire and metal sharded the connection. Wide-eyed, Hera shouted into the com.

"Ezra? Ezra!"

A cherished presence brushed her shoulder. A final goodbye.


	25. Dénouement

**Happy first Advent Week. Due to my tardiness in updating (and this being near the end of the story), I'll spare you the cliffhanger and give you the last chapter! ;)**

* * *

"Karabast and Sith!" Ezra shouted as the shuttle rolled under a concussion of heat. The comlink fizzed and the walls crumpled in, pockets of air punching through the walls. Kanan had only one moment….

He clung to the Force, searching for her. The hellebore of Ryloth, a butterfly carved of steel, caged with emerald. Her life beamed strongly amidst the stars.

Achingly Kanan brushed her shoulder, knowing it would be the last time.

"Hold on!" Ezra warned, spinning the shuttle in a dizzying roll. Light flashed in the cockpit and Ezra hollered, flinging up his arms as a molten hunk shot towards the cockpit –

And ricocheted from an invisible shield, joining the circle of debris that had miraculously avoided the spacecraft. Dumbfounded, Kanan looked to Ezra. When had the kid grown so strong?

Wheezing a laugh, Ezra staggered to his master's side. "It… wasn't … wasn't me."

"Wasn't…." Kanan whispered. Clarification struck. _Vader?_

Invigorated with hope, Ezra sheepishly grinned. "I guess he's still alive."

Kanan didn't know what to think. Flabbergasted, he croaked, "What – "

His breath ran out. Hitching stagnantly, Kanan panicked. _Air!_ His chest bucked, lungs pulling on cold, empty space. Ice numbed his fingers and Kanan looked dazedly at the holes punctured in the shuttle. Ezra's horror matched his own as he scrabbled at his pilot's suit, forgetting that in order to activate the oxygen, a pilot needed a helmet.

Huffing nostalgically, Kanan remembered a white hall in Imperial territory, with a single breather and the will to survive. Ezra choked, gagged on air that would not come, and smiled waveringly, his eyes bright with the same memory. Seconds later he was on his side, thrashing, clanging his fist on the steel floor in futile defiance. Limbs numb, Kanan sank down beside his padawan. His heart fluttered desperately. Starved. Listlessly Kanan drifted his fingers through Ezra's hair, finding the knotted braid.

Vader might have laid his claim, but this would always be _his_ boy.

Fervor clammed Kanan's hands as Ezra's eyes closed, and he poured his life into his apprentice, dipping into a void of the Force he had never known. He envisioned the thready heartbeat strengthening; the blood flowing; the mind cooperating even as oxygen failed. Feeling his own mind shut down, Kanan closed his eyes against the gathering dark and pressed every ounce of his will into Ezra.

 _Force, let him live. I'm ready._

Black encompassed Kanan's vision, and under his fingertips Ezra's pulse thudded. Faintly the master smiled.

Even the snap of an airlock, and the lopsided galumph followed by a sworn "Karabast!" would not wake him.

* * *

 ** _6 Months Later…._**

* * *

"So you mean I'm really a Skywalker, not a Lars?" A dazed Luke scratched his head as Bail Organna fumbled through his explanation of the Skywalker heritage for the fifth encore. Ezra yawned.

"Even a bantha could have understood it by now," he whispered to Zeb.

"Pshaw! Tell me about it," the Lasat grumbled, stretching his arms above his head.

"When you boys are ready to confess, Minister Tua wants to know what happened to her astromech," Hera said direly.

Chopper chortled, while Ezra and Zeb innocently looked away.

"It… might have met up with an unfortunate Tie accident," Zeb guessed.

"Sabine could have painted it," Ezra fancied.

"Mm-hm." Hera folded her arms over her enlarged stomach, glaring down at her misfortunate crew. "Ezra, explanation. Now."

"Chopper did it!" Zeb exclaimed shamelessly.

"Yeah, it was Chopper!" Ezra agreed.

An exasperated droid blared his innocence, and Hera calmly patted his dome. "Garazeb Orrelius, what happened to the minister's astromech?"

"We turned it into a garbage disposal," Ezra confessed in a rush. Zeb's ears flattened.

"Well, we kinda blasted it first."

"By accident – but Sabine painted it."

"Why did I ask?" Sighing, Hera looked back towards the dented, mismatched plating of the Ghost. "Where is that scandalous cowboy…?"

Rubbing his stomach, where a new lightsaber scar matched the whiskers on his cheek, Ezra gazed fondly at the battered Ghost. The former Imperial shipyard had pulled the wreck out of the scrap heap, but it was Hera who had snapped, griped, and bullied the ship to its former capacities. The hull looked as pathetic as that piece of junk Zeb almost won from a scruffy pilot in a Sarlaac game, but the hyperdrive purred like a contented tooka.

Much had changed in six months. Lothal's scarred landscape was dotted with farms, with former prisoners returning to their homes. It was the only planet where the stormtroopers had surrendered after the Death Star's destruction marked the collapse of the Empire. Senator Bail Organa was negotiating plans for a New Republic, but so long as the remnants of Palpatine's reign lingered, many planets would remain trapped under the old rule.

Lothal might have been Force-void, its Jedi Temple as hollow as a tomb, but the people were free.

The victims of the bio-weapon attack – some Force-sensitive, but many more drained by the adverse pollen effects – had recovered after a vaccination was developed for frudal flowers. The Force connection remained nullified, but it was amusing to see Sabine appreciatively sniffing white flowers that had once flung her into a fit of sneezes.

Lothal itself had a new republic – governed by Maketh Tua and a lieutenant whom retired clone commander "Rex" had personally recommended. The health system, work force, and architecture was swiftly improving under Tua's fiery control. No one cared whether Agent Kallus had died under a blue or a red lightsaber.

Stormtroopers and civilians alike were building a new civilization.

No one cared who was Sith or Jedi.

Aimlessly Ezra gazed at the early evening stars, wondering if the Force-nullification kept him from sensing his father, or if Darth Vader was merely out of reach. Six months had passed since the Death Star's explosion. It was too long.

"Still looking for him?"

The step-thud of Kanan's limp snapped Ezra from his trance. Anxiety flickered and was gone as he looked over his shoulder.

There was an older shuffle in Kanan's steps, but his eyes were younger. Fulfilled. After the Death Star's explosion, something had changed. Ezra's memories of the event were fuzzed after he smacked his head on the shuttle console. From what he had heard, Darth Vader himself had usurped the Empire, destroying himself in his own ambition. Ezra knew better. A lone shuttle could not have escaped the explosion.

Someone stronger than the Emperor had protected him and Kanan.

As for the events of their rescue thereafter, Ezra had no recollection. He remembered trying to breathe, and later hollering while a medical droid prodded at his torn stomach. Zeb said that Hera had docked against the shuttle just in time, allowing Zeb and Sabine to drag their crewmates from the decrepit hull. Oxygen had saved Ezra's life.

Kanan had almost died.

Twice.

Once on the transport, again when he was immersed in a bacta tank. Hera had been shaken for weeks.

And yet – six months later, with a metal band clamped around his twisted leg and a right hand that was sutured and partially numb – Kanan was more vibrant than before Ezra had joined the rebellion. The furrow had eased in his brow, and his eyes were clear. Confidence replaced an uncertainty Ezra had never noticed until its absence. As Kanan's right hand slowly healed, so did his mind. He was a Jedi Master.

Ezra knew that he had changed, too. He wasn't the kid who trailed after a threaded family, chasing down impossible goals. He knew who he was, and he understood his future. He was a Jedi.

"Still looking for Vader?" Kanan repeated softly. There was a hesitancy whenever he spoke of Darth Vader; an unresolved question that Ezra didn't know how to answer.

There was no answer that Kanan would accept.

Ezra was seventeen, now. Different - even more so than after Raydonia - and yet nothing had changed. Master and padawan still relied on one another; trained flawlessly; had established an impenetrable bond in the Force. Ezra just couldn't understand why Kanan didn't think he had room for _two_ fathers. Maybe it was the jealousy that Kanan would never admit; the guardian spirit that claimed Ezra as _his_ padawan only _._

It didn't seem fair, but there was no cure. Kanan and Vader would never meet on even grounds.

"Nah," Ezra said breezily, his eyes fixating on the stars. "That creepy lieutenant said he heard that Darth Vader's ghost was haunting his rumored daughter." A sister. Hah! That would be the day.

"Well, the skies are clear tonight," Kanan said, lowering himself with a grunt. He chewed his lip contemplatively before broaching, "Ahsoka wants me to begin Luke's training. She says you're ready."

Somberly he handed Ezra a worn cylinder. Ezra's breath caught and he glanced up in disbelief, fingers curling around the smooth metal.

"But… this is your lightsaber."

"New tradition," Kanan said with a shrug. He smiled crookedly. "You've finished your training. You're a Jedi Knight."

"A Knight?" Ezra exclaimed. "But what about you? I – I mean, isn't there some kind of ceremony? A test?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you've passed any test I could arrange," Kanan said somberly. "Ahsoka agreed: you're capable of continuing your own training."

"Oh." Studying his feet, Ezra fingered the saber's grooves. After years of depending of Kanan, he was finally flying on his own.

He didn't want to be alone.

"Hey." Mussing his former padawan's hair, Kanan chuckled. "I'm still here. The Force bond never breaks; even in death."

Ezra wondered if he was thinking of Master Billapa.

"So…." Kanan cleared his throat uncomfortably and nodded his chin towards a blossom of light pink and cerulean hair. "Zeb tells me you two haven't been speaking properly since she saw you in a bacta tank."

Choking, Ezra clapped his hands over his face. "Stop, just stop."

In truth, they had had one meaningful conversation – and that had involved a slap, a heated _'Are you finished with the Sith trash?_ ', and a long, tangled kiss that ended with Sabine walking away coyly, remarking on Ezra's 'drunken nerf expression'.

"I just thought maybe it was time I talked with you about something." Kanan coughed against his fist and cast Hera a pathetic look. "Ah… you know the Fulcrum married us not five months ago…."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that step yet, Kanan," Ezra admitted, picking the dirt under his nails. It was too soon; too many disasters in between. He wanted to know Sabine beyond crossfire and red lightsabers. They had time.

"That's… not what I meant." Again Kanan cleared his throat, and wilted under Hera's distant glare. "Ah… There's something I need to talk to you about. Um… maybe you've noticed there are certain _feelings_ – not Jedi feelings, but emotional feelings – stronger than the Force… um…"

"Whoa, whoa!" Ezra shoved out his hands, nearly falling backwards. "I know where this is going! You don't have to say anything! Zeb told me the minute I admitted Sabine was hot!"

"Oh…." Relieved, Kanan spread his hands and then froze. "Wait, _what?_ "

Desperately Ezra scrambled to his feet. "I know what happens, okay? Don't – don't talk about Hera. I – just don't!"

Behind them, Zeb burst out laughing. "I betcha wonder where the li'l lekku comes from, right?"

"Zeb, no!" Face crimson, Ezra clapped his hands over his ears and shouted at the top of his lungs, "I'm a Jedi and I swear I'm not going to kill him!"

"Hehe, and to think I'll be an uncle when you and Sabine manufacture a couple brats of your own!"

"That's it!" Lightsaber flaring, Ezra pounced after the hooting Lasat, shouting curses above the hysterical cackles.

Kanan rolled his eyes. "Aye-yu-yuy."

"That went well," Hera said, looking coolly to where Sabine was encouraging the squabble, half dizzy with laughter.

"When our kid's old enough, you're talking to him."

"If it isn't a _she_ ," Hera said primly.

"Then you're definitely managing the conversation!"

Hera's fingers walked up his shoulder, and Kanan's pulse thrummed. "Want to talk about it privately first?"

Looping an arm around the Twi'lek's waist, Kanan waved a scolding Chopper away. "Eh, let the boys fight. Just keep them out of the Ghost for a few hours."

He was a Jedi, he was married, and he was dang proud of it.

The Code was just a guideline for beginners, anyways.

Caleb Dume would have agreed.

* * *

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* * *

 _End_

* * *

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* * *

 **Concluding Notes for the Never Alone Series:**

 _The bio-weapon's effects on Lothal have devastating consequences. The Force on Lothal will remain stagnant for over forty years, and two centuries will pass before a Force-sensitive child is born on the planet._

* * *

The Lieutenant _(a subtle OC referenced frequently under the simple title "the lieutenant") survives the Death Star, wins the betting pool for 'longest run under Darth Vader without a significant choking incident' and retires from his position during Lothal's early republic. He continues "non-lethal" jobs such as guarding transports and supply debots, and settles down to an ordinary, undisturbed life with a wife and nine kids._

* * *

 _"Cee-Ray" (the singing kitchen droid from "Carbon") is assigned to the Fulcrum's transport. Two days later the droid is mysteriously drowned in a water bucket._

* * *

 _Maketh Tua becomes the Grand Minister of Lothal and maintains a solid, peaceful community, governing into her old age._

* * *

 _Zare Leonis returns to his family safe and sound. It is discovered that he had an unusual allergic reaction to the frudal flowers, which is cured with the newly developed vaccination. He begins his training in Lothal's new training facilities, and is immediately offered a promotion for his invaluable help to the rebel "Dev Morgan"._

 _Dhara is discovered to be one of the Emperor's Force-sensitives-in-training. She returns to Lothal for rehabilitation, and will be permitted to train as a Jedi five years later._

* * *

 _Kanan initiates Luke's training in the Force, but his war wounds impede his progress. After a year Luke continues his training under Master Yoda, and finishes under Ahsoka's tutelage after Yoda's death. He later trains two apprentices at the same time, helping to rebuild the Jedi Order._

 _According to the galactic media reports: "Luke Skywalker/Lars and Ezra Bridger/Skywalker refuse to mingle for unaccountable reasons." Luke is too snobby for Ezra's liking, and Ezra is too high-minded to understand vaporizers. They do not get along._

* * *

 _R2-D2's loyalty remains with Luke, and Ezra encourages Chopper to zap the blue droid whenever he feel antagonistic. (Hence, Luke usually makes his rounds to Lothal alone.)_

* * *

 _Obi-wan and Kanan share many long conversations, from Vader's children to Ezra to the survival of future Jedi. Obi-wan encourages Kanan to train younglings in the Force, preparing them for advanced masters._

* * *

 _Kallus' death on Kessel is quietly logged into the Lothal records database and ignored. Accidents happen all the time when Sith lords are involved. Maketh Tua vindictively clears out Kallus' office and – with Chopper's help – hacks into his security files and liberates hundreds of prisoners who were illegally detained._

* * *

 _The mines of Kessel are not easily cleared – just as slave rings among the Hutts cannot be abolished – but constant political barrage on the part of Captain Stalin and numerous protesters eventually shut down the mines and bring a trickle of relief to the slaves._

* * *

 _Zeb returns to Lasan to rebuild his home world; a weary and war-torn soldier, tired of bloodshed, seeking peace and refuge. He eventually marries and brings his 'kits' to see their Uncle Ez and Aunt Saby. (He's a little worried about Kanan recruiting his youngsters, but Hera will not be denied her 'Aunt Hera' rights, and Zeb daren't refuse her orders.)_

* * *

 _Chopper chooses to stay with Kanan and Hera, but he visits Lasan occasionally – if only to dump a jar of jam over Zeb's head. (He is teaching the children good manners.)_

* * *

 _Kanan and Hera's first child is a girl – a mottled yellow and brown, thick-lekkued halfling named Depa. She is born on Lothal a few months after the bio-weapon, and is permanently affected by the atmosphere. She will never sense or harness the Force._

 _Their second child, Kaleb Syndulla Jarrus, is born with one long and one short lekku, and has no desire to become a Jedi. He pours his efforts into piloting alongside his mother, and is commended for his talents at a young age. Kanan orders him to train as a Jedi, as there are too few left to waste any Force-sensitives. Ezra coaches Kaleb for a few years in lightsaber and ground techniques, while Kanan ruthlessly trains him in the Force. In time, Kaleb will be a strong – if reluctant – Jedi pilot._

 _The Jarrus family move to Coruscant, where Kanan and the surviving Jedi rebuild the old Temple and begin a new order. Kanan's right hand heals enough that he can demonstrate lightsaber techniques, although he is not the fighter he used to be. His knee swells in cold weather and he limps around with a metal brace._

 _Hera instructs some of Coruscant's finest pilots, while an unusually helpful (if irritating) bipedal droid named C-3PO tutors Depa until she is old enough to accompany her daddy to the Jedi Temple. (Hera threatens to 'pull that golden scrapheap's plug' several times per evening, until Kanan is tempted to let Chopper sizzle C-3PO just for some peace of mind.)_

 _War wounds catch up with Kanan eventually. At sixty-one he falls and doesn't get up. Ezra travels to Coruscant and personally lights his master's pyre. Hera lives for another sixty years and sees both her children married and have children of their own, but she is never quite the same without her Fearless Leader. Chopper is her steadfast companion until the end._

* * *

 _Darth Vader does survive the Death Star's explosion. He steals away Leia and endures a frustrating fatherhood filled with scruffy-dragged-off-a-smuggler's-vessel boyfriends, teenage daughters wielding red lightsabers, tearful breakdowns, 'Daddy-do-this' moments, opening jar lids, winning teddy bears in Jedi Sabaac, and manipulative female emotions._

 _He keeps an eye on Luke's progress, but has enough damage to mind with Leia's rabid tenacity. He just doesn't time to babysit another whiny brat. The boy was trained by Kanan, after all; he'd probably get his hand chopped off sooner or later._

 _Although Ezra is watched from afar, Darth Vader does not interfere. The grandkids, on the other hand…._

* * *

 _Leia is found by Darth Vader and trained as the most diabolical Sith princess that ever fought in a dress and high heels. She captures a dashing scoundrel, Han Solo, who can't decide if he's a prisoner or lucky to have landed a hot date. Marriage is inevitable. Their eldest son (Jakon) absconds from his Sith training and becomes a leading member of Alderaan's senate, while the younger (Tal'c) becomes an eye-patched pirate who makes his fortune in the black market. Darth Vader hoards both his grandson's training. The only sign to Ezra that Vader might be alive is that a certain Alderaan senator keeps a lightsaber on his belt at all times. (He figures Kanan would be mortified by his muttered swear words, purple-verging-on-maroon saber blade, and that leather-garbed blaster fanatic who drops by on occasion, so Jakon had to have had a master who was once right-hand to the Emperor.)_

* * *

 _Ezra and Sabine are married four years after the beginning of the New Republic. They relocate to Naboo on Sabine's suggestion, as 'the tranquil atmosphere would be calming after Ezra's limited experience with flourishing planets'. This marks the first time Ezra ever sees the sea._

 _Their son is born blue-eyed, and Ezra finally realizes Sabine's original hair color was orange (because it has to be – she wouldn't have banned him to the couch if he hadn't guessed right)._

 _After the destruction of the Empire, Sabine is tentatively reunited with her parents – who are more welcoming and receiving of their rebel daughter after they greet little Isaac._

 _Ezra leaves on four quests to find Darth Vader. All end in failure. As far as he knows, either Darth Vader is dead or he does not want to be found._

 _Eventually Ezra is elevated to Jedi Master. He only trains two padawans of his own, since most of his life is consumed with babysitting Kaleb, Depa, Isaac, Luke's daughter Beryl, and one of Zeb's sharp-toothed daughters. He swears that if Ahsoka ever settles down, he gets to train the next baby Fulcrum._


	26. (Behind the Scenes)

The plot for Courage changed constantly, and my "outline" is a heap of scrapped notes. Here's a summary of how the plotline was originally supposed to go:

 _ **Outline 1**_ \- Rebels are captured, Ezra and Chopper rescue everyone, Ezra goes to Kessel to free Kanan. Kallus tries to apprehend Kanan and Ezra in the Kessel mines. Darth Vader stops Kallus from killing Ezra, Darth Vader tries to kill Kanan, Ezra stops him with a "clash of dark and light" and proves he is a powerful Jedi. Darth Vader realizes Ezra will not be turned and leaves him alone.

 _ **Outline 2 -**_ Rebels are captured, Ezra and Chopper rescue everyone, Ezra goes to Kessel to free Kanan. Kallus tries to apprehend them in the mines, stabs Ezra in the shoulder with his bo-rifle, Kanan starts to go dark side and nearly strangles Kallus. Ezra stops Kanan from turning to the dark side, and Kallus is half-buried under a cave-in (and rather forgotten). Kanan's leg is trapped in the rubble. Enter Vader, who tries to kill Kanan. Ezra stops him in a "clash of dark and light" and proves he is a powerful Jedi. Darth Vader realizes Ezra's loyalty outmatches his dark nature and decides to leave him to Kanan.

 _This story was supposed to be about Ezra rescuing the Ghost crew on his own, and realizing that he was a Jedi through and through. It seemed to be another typical round of "Vader tries to catch Ezra and fails", however, and I wanted a conclusion that would finalize matters once and for all._

 _Hence, in chapter 13 Darth Vader decided to take a hand in things…._

 _ **Outline 3 –**_ Rebels are captured, Ezra and Chopper rescue everyone, Ezra goes to Kessel to free Kanan. Ezra is captured by Vader and locked in a holding cell. He is freed by Leonis, who tells him that Zare thought highly of him, and thanks him for looking after his son. Ezra goes to free Kanan, confronts Vader, there's a fight between him, Vader and Ahsoka, clash of light, blah blah blah.

This still didn't get into the gritty detail of everything tucked into Ezra's mentality after two years of being hunted.

 _ **Outline 4**_ – Rebels are captured, Ezra and Chopper rescue everyone, Ezra goes to Kessel to free Kanan. Ezra is confronted by Vader and becomes a "Sith". After he kills Kallus, Kanan and Vader have an epic "battle moment" and Kanan tells Ezra to stay out of it because he doesn't trust him. Kanan almost dies, Ahsoka rescues him, Ezra realizes the depths of his actions and fights alongside Ahsoka, gets impaled by Vader's lightsaber and brings a flicker of Anakin Skywalker back to life. Everyone goes home and Ezra begins his training anew since he doesn't believe he can be a Jedi again.

 _Again, this outline was just a repeat of "Ezra needs his confidence back" – plus, Kanan was too beat up to actually fight Vader. More so, once I finished the battle scene with Ahsoka and Ezra, I realized Kanan never had his "moment of clarity" like all the other characters. He was getting the same "sit back and break quietly while fixing Ezra" script. Hence, the final outcome:_

 _ **Outline 5**_ – Ezra has his "moment of clarity" while he is unconscious after fighting Vader. Kanan leaves to FINALLY take down Vader himself (like he was always promising). Kanan reaches into his darkest thoughts and worst doubts, and sort-of-accidentally embraces the dark side. He realizes too late what he is doing, and that Darth Vader is too strong. (The lopped hand was kind of a last minute "these-things-happen with-live-lightsaber-battles moment". Realism, people.) Enter Ezra, who intervenes as a true Jedi and makes Darth Vader rethink his life. (I think I was going to have the "clash of light and dark" moment here, but I liked the hug better.)

 _That pretty much sums it up! :) This was the most complex story, dragging into each character's strengths and uncertainties for the final encore. Thank you so much to everyone who encouraged me to get to the last chapter!_

* * *

Now for the final question:

 **Is Ezra Really Darth Vader's Son?**

This is an open ended conclusion, with no absolute confirmation included in the text. Do I believe Ezra (could have been if Disney was more awesome) Vader's son? After seeing Rex tutor him on the clone ship's cannon in Season II (not to mention his improved lightsaber tactics in " _Stealth Strike_ "), yes. Yes, I do.

However, most hard core Star Wars fan would strongly disagree with this theory, so for those lovely folk, I left the conclusion open for either direction. He could be a Bridger that was vastly confused into the wider universe thanks to Kallus' meddling. He could be a Skywalker raised on Lothal. He could even be a clone experiment from Emperor Palpatine trying to replicate Anakin! Whatever the case, his story has reached its conclusion and he will be remembered as a great Jedi.


End file.
